diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:46:34 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:46:34 -0700 |
| commit | e46006c9e76df0a0fe22eed4af75414c468e3a67 (patch) | |
| tree | fa0c47ba47cd7fe2b936b5ecb7315ecb3848381c | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 15356-8.txt | 10804 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 15356-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 195341 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 15356-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 201513 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 15356-h/15356-h.htm | 10889 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 15356.txt | 10804 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 15356.zip | bin | 0 -> 195315 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
9 files changed, 32513 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15356-8.txt b/15356-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a26afd --- /dev/null +++ b/15356-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10804 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Money, by Fergus Hume + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Red Money + +Author: Fergus Hume + +Release Date: March 14, 2005 [EBook #15356] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + RED MONEY + + BY FERGUS HUME + +Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "The Solitary Farm," "The +Peacock of Jewels," "The Red Window," "The Steel Crown," etc. + + 1911 + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + I. THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS + + II. IN THE WOOD + + III. AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION + + IV. SECRETS + + V. THE WOMAN AND THE MAN + + VI. THE MAN AND THE WOMAN + + VII. THE SECRETARY + + VIII. AT MIDNIGHT + + IX. AFTERWARDS + + X. A DIFFICULT POSITION + + XI. BLACKMAIL + + XII. THE CONSPIRACY + + XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED + + XIV. MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE + + XV. GUESSWORK + + XVI. THE LAST STRAW + + XVII. ON THE TRAIL + + XVIII. AN AMAZING ACCUSATION + + XIX. MOTHER COCKLESHELL + + XX. THE DESTINED END + + XXI. A FINAL SURPRISE + + + + +RED MONEY + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS. + + +"Gypsies! How very delightful! I really must have my fortune told. The +dear things know all about the future." + +As Mrs. Belgrove spoke she peered through her lorgnette to see if anyone +at the breakfast-table was smiling. The scrutiny was necessary, since +she was the oldest person present, and there did not appear to be any +future for her, save that very certain one connected with a funeral. But +a society lady of sixty, made up to look like one of forty (her maid +could do no more), with an excellent digestion and a constant desire, +like the Athenians of old, for "Something New!" can scarcely be expected +to dwell upon such a disagreeable subject as death. Nevertheless, Mrs. +Belgrove could not disguise from herself that her demise could not be +postponed for many more years, and examined the faces of the other +guests to see if they thought so too. If anyone did, he and she politely +suppressed a doubtful look and applauded the suggestion of a +fortune-telling expedition. + +"Let us make up a party and go," said the hostess, only too thankful to +find something to amuse the house-party for a few hours. "Where did you +say the gypsies were, Garvington?" + +"In the Abbot's Wood," replied her husband, a fat, small round-faced +man, who was methodically devouring a large breakfast. + +"That's only three miles away. We can drive or ride." + +"Or motor, or bicycle, or use Shanks' mare," remarked Miss Greeby rather +vulgarly. Not that any one minded such a speech from her, as her +vulgarity was merely regarded as eccentricity, because she had money and +brains, an exceedingly long tongue, and a memory of other people's +failings to match. + +Lord Garvington made no reply, as breakfast, in his opinion, was much +too serious a business to be interrupted. He reached for the marmalade, +and requested that a bowl of Devonshire cream should be passed along. +His wife, who was lean and anxious-looking even for an August hostess, +looked at him wrathfully. He never gave her any assistance in +entertaining their numerous guests, yet always insisted that the house +should be full for the shooting season. And being poor for a titled +pair, they could not afford to entertain even a shoeblack, much less a +crowd of hungry sportsmen and a horde of frivolous women, who required +to be amused expensively. It was really too bad of Garvington. + +At this point the reflections of the hostess were interrupted by Miss +Greeby, who always had a great deal to say, and who always tried, as an +American would observe, "to run the circus." "I suppose you men will go +out shooting as usual?" she said in her sharp, clear voice. + +The men present collectively declared that such was their intention, and +that they had come to "The Manor" for that especial purpose, so it was +useless to ask them, or any one of them, to go on a fortune-telling +expedition when they could find anything of that sort in Bond Street. +"And it's all a lot of rot, anyhow," declared one sporting youth with +obviously more muscle and money than brains; "no one can tell my +fortune." + +"I can, Billy. You will be Prime Minister," flashed out Miss Greeby, at +which there was a general laugh. Then Garvington threw a bombshell. + +"You'd better get your fortunes told to-day, if you want to," he +grunted, wiping his mustache; "for to-morrow I'm going to have these +rotters moved off my land straight away. They're thieves and liars." + +"So are many other people," snapped Miss Greeby, who had lost heavily at +bridge on the previous night and spoke feelingly. + +Her host paid no attention to her. "There's been a lot of burglaries in +this neighborhood of late. I daresay these gypsies are mixed up in +them." + +"Burglaries!" cried Mrs. Belgrove, and turned pale under her rouge, as +she remembered that she had her diamonds with her. + +"Oh, it's all right! Don't worry," said Garvington, pushing back his +chair. "They won't try on any games in this house while I'm here. If any +one tries to get in I'll shoot the beast." + +"Is that allowed by law?" asked an army officer with a shrug. + +"I don't know and I don't care," retorted Garvington. "An Englishman's +house is his castle, you know, and he can jolly well shoot any one who +tries to get into it. Besides, I shouldn't mind potting a burglar. Great +sport." + +"You'd ask his intentions first, I presume," said Lady Garvington +tartly. + +"Not me. Any one getting into the house after dark doesn't need his +intentions to be asked. I'd shoot." + +"What about Romeo?" asked a poetic-looking young man. "He got into +Juliet's house, but did not come as a burglar." + +"He came as a guest, I believe," said a quiet, silvery voice at the end +of the table, and every one turned to look at Lady Agnes Pine, who had +spoken. + +She was Garvington's sister, and the wife of Sir Hubert Pine, the +millionaire, who was absent from the house party on this occasion. As a +rule, she spoke little, and constantly wore a sad expression on her pale +and beautiful face. And Agnes Pine really was beautiful, being one of +those tall, slim willowy-looking women who always look well and act +charmingly. And, indeed, her undeniable charm of manner probably had +more to do with her reputation as a handsome woman than her actual +physical grace. With her dark hair and dark eyes, her Greek features and +ivory skin faintly tinted with a tea-rose hue, she looked very lovely +and very sad. Why she should be, was a puzzle to many women, as being +the wife of a superlatively rich man, she had all the joys that money +could bring her. Still it was hinted on good authority--but no one ever +heard the name of the authority--that Garvington being poor had forced +her into marrying Sir Hubert, for whom she did not care in the least. +People said that her cousin Noel Lambert was the husband of her choice, +but that she had sacrificed herself, or rather had been compelled to do +so, in order that Garvington might be set on his legs. But Lady Agnes +never gave any one the satisfaction of knowing the exact truth. She +moved through the social world like a gentle ghost, fulfilling her +duties admirably, but apparently indifferent to every one and +everything. "Clippin' to look at," said the young men, "but tombs to +talk to. No sport at all." But then the young men did not possess the +key to Lady Agnes Pine's heart. Nor did her husband apparently. + +Her voice was very low and musical, and every one felt its charm. +Garvington answered her question as he left the room. "Romeo or no +Romeo, guest or no guest," he said harshly, "I'll shoot any beast who +tries to enter my house. Come on, you fellows. We start in half an hour +for the coverts." + +When the men left the room, Miss Greeby came and sat down in a vacant +seat near her hostess. "What did Garvington mean by that last speech?" +she asked with a significant look at Lady Agnes. + +"Oh, my dear, when does Garvington ever mean anything?" said the other +woman fretfully. "He is so selfish; he leaves me to do everything." + +"Well," drawled Miss Greeby with a pensive look on her masculine +features, "he looked at Agnes when he spoke." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Lady Garvington sharply. + +Miss Greeby gave a significant laugh. "I notice that Mr. Lambert is not +in the house," she said carelessly. "But some one told me he was near at +hand in the neighborhood. Surely Garvington doesn't mean to shoot him." + +"Clara." The hostess sat up very straight, and a spot of color burned on +either sallow cheek. "I am surprised at you. Noel is staying in the +Abbot's Wood Cottage, and indulging in artistic work of some sort. But +he can come and stay here, if he likes. You don't mean to insinuate that +he would climb into the house through a window after dark like a +burglar?" + +"That's just what I do mean," retorted Miss Greeby daringly, "and if he +does, Garvington will shoot him. He said so." + +"He said nothing of the sort," cried Lady Garvington, angrily rising. + +"Well, he meant it. I saw him looking at Agnes. And we know that Sir +Hubert is as jealous as Othello. Garvington is on guard I suppose, +and--" + +"Will you hold your tongue?" whispered the mistress of the Manor +furiously, and she would have shaken Miss Greeby, but that she had +borrowed money from her and did not dare to incur her enmity. "Agnes +will hear you; she is looking this way; can't you see?" + +"As if I cared," laughed Miss Greeby, pushing out her full lower lip in +a contemptuous manner. However, for reasons best known to herself, she +held her peace, although she would have scorned the idea that the hint +of her hostess made her do so. + +Lady Garvington saw that her guests were all chattering with one +another, and that the men were getting ready to leave for the day's +shooting, so she went to discuss the dinner in the housekeeper's room. +But all the time she and the housekeeper were arguing what Lord +Garvington would like in the way of food, the worried woman was +reflecting on what Miss Greeby had said. When the menu was finally +settled--no easy task when it concerned the master of the house--Lady +Garvington sought out Mrs. Belgrove. That juvenile ancient was sunning +herself on the terrace, in the hope of renewing her waning vitality, +and, being alone, permitted herself to look old. She brisked up with a +kittenish purr when disturbed, and remarked that the Hengishire air was +like champagne. "My spirits are positively wild and wayward," said the +would-be Hebe with a desperate attempt to be youthful. + +"Ah, you haven't got the house to look after," sighed Lady Garvington, +with a weary look, and dropped into a basket chair to pour out her woes +to Mrs. Belgrove. That person was extremely discreet, as years of +society struggling had taught her the value of silence. Her discretion +in this respect brought her many confidences, and she was renowned for +giving advice which was never taken. + +"What's the matter, my dear? You look a hundred," said Mrs. Belgrove, +putting up her lorgnette with a chuckle, as if she had made an original +observation. But she had not, for Lady Garvington always appeared worn +and weary, and sallow, and untidy. She was the kind of absent-minded +person who depended upon pins to hold her garments together, and who +would put on her tiara crookedly for a drawing-room. + +"Clara Greeby's a cat," said poor, worried Lady Garvington, hunting for +her pocket handkerchief, which was rarely to be found. + +"Has she been making love to Garvington?" + +"Pooh! No woman attracts Garvington unless she can cook, or knows +something about a kitchen range. I might as well have married a soup +tureen. I'm sure I don't know why I ever did marry him," lamented the +lady, staring at the changing foliage of the park trees. "He's a pauper +and a pig, my dear, although I wouldn't say so to every one. I wish my +mother hadn't insisted that I should attend cooking classes." + +"What on earth has that to do with it?" + +"To do with what?" asked Lady Garvington absentmindedly. "I don't know +what you're talking about, I'm sure. But mother knew that Garvington was +fond of a good dinner, and made me attend those classes, so as to learn +to talk about French dishes. We used to flirt about soups and creams and +haunches of venison, until he thought that I was as greedy as he was. So +he married me, and I've been attending to his meals ever since. Why, +even for our honeymoon we went to Mont St. Michel. They make splendid +omelettes there, and Garvington ate all the time. Ugh!" and the poor +lady shuddered. + +Mrs. Belgrove saw that her companion was meandering, and would never +come to the point unless forced to face it, so she rapped her knuckles +with the lorgnette. "What about Clara Greeby?" she demanded sharply. + +"She's a cat!" + +"Oh, we're all cats, mewing or spitting as the fit takes us," said Mrs. +Belgrove comfortably. "I can't see why cat should be a term of +opprobrium when applied to a woman. Cats are charmingly pretty animals, +and know what they want, also how to get it. Well, my dear?" + +"I believe she was in love with Noel herself," ruminated Lady +Garvington. + +"Who was in love? Come to the point, my dear Jane." + +"Clara Greeby." + +Mrs. Belgrove laughed. "Oh, that ancient history. Every one who was +anybody knew that Clara would have given her eyes--and very ugly eyes +they are--to have married Noel Lambert. I suppose you mean him? Noel +isn't a common name. Quite so. You mean him. Well, Clara wanted to buy +him. He hasn't any money, and as a banker's heiress she is as rich as a +Jew. But he wouldn't have her." + +"Why wouldn't he?" asked Lady Garvington, waking up--she had been +reflecting about a new soup which she hoped would please her husband. +"Clara has quite six thousand a year, and doesn't look bad when her maid +makes her dress in a proper manner. And, talking about maids, mine wants +to leave, and--" + +"She's too like Boadicea," interrupted Mrs. Belgrove, keeping her +companion to the subject of Miss Greeby. "A masculine sort of hussy. +Noel is far too artistic to marry such a maypole. She's six foot two, if +she's an inch, and her hands and feet--" Mrs. Belgrove shuddered with a +gratified glance at her own slim fingers. + +"You know the nonsense that Garvington was talking; about shooting a +burglar," said the other woman vaguely. "Such nonsense, for I'm sure no +burglar would enter a house filled with nothing but Early Victorian +furniture." + +"Well? Well? Well?" said Mrs. Belgrove impatiently. + +"Clara Beeby thought that Garvington meant to shoot Noel." + +"Why, in heaven's name! Because Noel is his heir?" + +"I'm sure I can't help it if I've no children," said Lady Garvington, +going off on another trail--the one suggested by Mrs. Belgrove's remark. +"I'd be a happier woman if I had something else to attend to than +dinners. I wish we all lived on roots, so that Garvington could dig them +up for himself." + +"My dear, he'd send you out with a trowel to do that," said Mrs. +Belgrove humorously. "But why does Garvington want to shoot Noel?" + +"Oh, he doesn't. I never said he did. Clara Greeby made the remark. You +see, Noel loved Agnes before she married Hubert, and I believe he loves +her still, which isn't right, seeing she's married, and isn't half so +good-looking as she was. And Noel stopping at that cottage in the +Abbot's Wood painting in water-colors. I think he is, but I'm not sure +if it isn't in oils, and the--" + +"Well? Well? Well?" asked Mrs. Belgrove again. + +"It isn't well at all, when you think what a tongue Clara Greeby has," +snapped Lady Garvington. "She said if Noel came to see Agnes by night, +Garvington, taking him for a burglar, might shoot him. She insisted that +he looked at Agnes when he was talking about burglars, and meant that." + +"What nonsense!" cried Mrs. Belgrove vigorously, at last having arrived +at a knowledge of why Lady Garvington had sought her. "Noel can come +here openly, so there is no reason he should steal here after dark." + +"Well, he's romantic, you know, dear. And romantic people always prefer +windows to doors and darkness to light. The windows here are so +insecure," added Lady Garvington, glancing at the facade above her +untidy hair. "He could easily get in by sticking a penknife in between +the upper and lower sash of the window. It would be quite easy." + +"What nonsense you talk, Jane," said Mrs. Belgrove, impatiently. "Noel +is not the man to come after a married woman when her husband is away. I +have known him since he was a Harrow schoolboy, so I have every right to +speak. Where is Sir Hubert?" + +"He is at Paris or Pekin, or something with a 'P,'" said Lady Garvington +in her usual vague way. "I'm sure I don't know why he can't take Agnes +with him. They get on very well for a married couple." + +"All the same she doesn't love him." + +"He loves her, for I'm sure he's that jealous that he can't scarcely +bear her out of his sight." + +"It seems to me that he can," remarked Mrs. Belgrove dryly. "Since he is +at Paris or Pekin and she is here." + +"Garvington is looking after her, and he owes Sir Hubert too much, not +to see that Agnes is all right." + +Mrs. Belgrove peered at Lady Garvington through her lorgnette. "I think +you talk a great deal of nonsense, Jane, as I said before," she +observed. "I don't suppose for one moment that Agnes thinks of Noel, or +Noel of Agnes." + +"Clara Greeby says--" + +"Oh, I know what she says and what she wishes. She would like to get +Noel into trouble with Sir Hubert over Agnes, simply because he will not +marry her. As to her chatter about burglars--" + +"Garvington's chatter," corrected her companion. + +"Well, then, Garvington's. It's all rubbish. Agnes is a sweet girl, +and--" + +"Girl?" Lady Garvington laughed disdainfully. "She is twenty-five." + +"A mere baby. People cannot be called old until they are seventy or +eighty. It is a bad habit growing old. I have never encouraged it +myself. By the way, tell me something about Sir Hubert Pine. I have only +met him once or twice. What kind of a man is he?" + +"Tall, and thin, and dark, and--" + +"I know his appearance. But his nature?" + +"He's jealous, and can be very disagreeable when he likes. I don't know +who he is, or where he came from. He made his money out of penny toys +and South African investments. He was a member of Parliament for a few +years, and helped his party so much with money that he was knighted. +That's all I know of him, except that he is very mean." + +"Mean? What you tell me doesn't sound mean." + +"I'm talking of his behavior to Garvington," explained the hostess, +touching her ruffled hair, "he doesn't give us enough money." + +"Why should he give you any?" asked Mrs. Belgrove bluntly. + +"Well, you see, dear, Garvington would never have allowed his sister to +marry a nobody, unless--" + +"Unless the nobody paid for his footing. I quite understand. Every one +knows that Agnes married the man to save her family from bankruptcy. +Poor girl!" Mrs. Belgrove sighed. "And she loved Noel. What a shame that +she couldn't become his wife!" + +"Oh, that would have been absurd," said Lady Garvington pettishly. +"What's the use of Hunger marrying Thirst? Noel has no money, just like +ourselves, and if it hadn't been for Hubert this place would have been +sold long ago. I'm telling you secrets, mind." + +"My dear, you tell me nothing that everybody doesn't know." + +"Then what is your advice?" + +"About what, my dear?" + +"About what I have been telling you. The burglar, and--" + +"I have told you before, that it is rubbish. If a burglar does come here +I hope Lord Garvington will shoot him, as I don't want to lose my +diamonds." + +"But if the burglar is Noel?" + +"He won't be Noel. Clara Greeby has simply made a nasty suggestion which +is worthy of her. But if you're afraid, why not get her to marry Noel?" + +"He won't have her," said Lady Garvington dolefully. + +"I know he won't. Still a persevering woman can do wonders, and Clara +Greeby has no self-respect. And if you think Noel is too near, get Agnes +to join her husband in Pekin." + +"I think it's Paris." + +"Well then, Paris. She can buy new frocks." + +"Agnes doesn't care for new frocks. Such simple tastes she has, wanting +to help the poor. Rubbish, I call it." + +"Why, when her husband helps Lord Garvington?" asked Mrs. Belgrove +artlessly. + +Lady Garvington frowned. "What horrid things you say." + +"I only repeat what every one is saying." + +"Well, I'm sure I don't care," cried Lady Garvington recklessly, and +rose to depart on some vague errand. "I'm only in the world to look +after dinners and breakfasts. Clara Greeby's a cat making all this fuss +about--" + +"Hush! There she is." + +Lady Garvington fluttered round, and drifted towards Miss Greeby, who +had just stepped out on to the terrace. The banker's daughter was in a +tailor-made gown with a man's cap and a man's gloves, and a man's +boots--at least, as Mrs. Belgrove thought, they looked like that--and +carried a very masculine stick, more like a bludgeon than a cane. With +her ruddy complexion and ruddy hair, and piercing blue eyes, and +magnificent figure--for she really had a splendid figure in spite of +Mrs. Belgrove's depreciation--she looked like a gigantic Norse goddess. +With a flashing display of white teeth, she came along swinging her +stick, or whirling her shillalah, as Mrs. Belgrove put it, and seemed +the embodiment of coarse, vigorous health. + +"Taking a sun-bath?" she inquired brusquely and in a loud baritone +voice. "Very wise of you two elderly things. I am going for a walk." + +Mrs. Belgrove was disagreeable in her turn. "Going to the Abbot's Wood?" + +"How clever of you to guess," Miss Greeby smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm +going to look up Lambert"; she always spoke of her male friends in this +hearty fashion. "He ought to be here enjoying himself instead of living +like a hermit in the wilds." + +"He's painting pictures," put in Lady Garvington. "Do hermits paint?" + +"No. Only society women do that," said Miss Greeby cheerfully, and Mrs. +Belgrove's faded eyes flashed. She knew that the remark was meant for +her, and snapped back. "Are you going to have your fortune told by the +gypsies, dear?" she inquired amiably. "They might tell you about your +marriage." + +"Oh, I daresay, and if you ask they will prophesy your funeral." + +"I am in perfect health, Miss Greeby." + +"So I should think, since your cheeks are so red." + +Lady Garvington hastily intervened to prevent the further exchange of +compliments. "Will you be back to luncheon, or join the men at the +coverts?" + +"Neither. I'll drop on Lambert for a feed. Where are you going?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," said the hostess vaguely. "There's lots to do. +I shall know what's to be done, when I think of it," and she drifted +along the terrace and into the house like a cloud blown any way by the +wind. Miss Greeby looked after her limp figure with a contemptuous grin, +then she nodded casually to Mrs. Belgrove, and walked whistling down the +terrace steps. + +"Cat, indeed!" commented Mrs. Belgrove to herself when she saw Miss +Greeby's broad back disappear behind the laurels. "Nothing half so +pretty. She's like a great Flanders mare. And I wish Henry VIII was +alive to marry her," she added the epithet suggesting that king, "if +only to cut her head off." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +IN THE WOOD. + + +Miss Greeby swung along towards her destination with a masculine stride +and in as great a hurry as though she had entered herself for a Marathon +race. It was a warm, misty day, and the pale August sunshine radiated +faintly through the smoky atmosphere. Nothing was clear-cut and nothing +was distinct, so hazy was the outlook. The hedges were losing their +greenery and had blossomed forth into myriad bunches of ruddy hips and +haws, and the usually hard road was soft underfoot because of the +penetrating quality of the moist air. There was no wind to clear away +the misty greyness, but yellow leaves without its aid dropped from the +disconsolate trees. The lately-reaped fields, stretching on either side +of the lane down which the lady was walking, presented a stubbled +expanse of brown and dim gold, uneven and distressful to the eye. The +dying world was in ruins and Nature had reduced herself to that +necessary chaos, out of which, when the coming snow completed its task, +she would build a new heaven and a new earth. + +An artist might have had some such poetic fancy, and would certainly +have looked lovingly on the alluring colors and forms of decay. But Miss +Greeby was no artist, and prided herself upon being an aggressively +matter-of-fact young woman. With her big boots slapping the ground and +her big hands thrust into the pockets of her mannish jacket, she bent +her head in a meditative fashion and trudged briskly onward. What +romance her hard nature was capable of, was uppermost now, but it +had to do strictly with her personal feelings and did not require the +picturesque autumn landscape to improve or help it in any way. One man's +name suggested romance to bluff, breezy Clara Greeby, and that name was +Noel Lambert. She murmured it over and over again to her heart, and her +hard face flushed into something almost like beauty, as she remembered +that she would soon behold its owner. "But he won't care," she said +aloud, and threw back her head defiantly: then after a pause, she +breathed softly, "But I shall make him care." + +If she hoped to do so, the task was one which required a great amount of +skill and a greater amount of womanly courage, neither of which +qualities Miss Greeby possessed. She had no skill in managing a man, as +her instincts were insufficiently feminine, and her courage was of a +purely rough-and-tumble kind. She could have endured hunger and thirst +and cold: she could have headed a forlorn hope: she could have held to a +sinking ship: but she had no store of that peculiar feminine courage +which men don't understand and which women can't explain, however much +they may exhibit it. Miss Greeby was an excellent comrade, but could not +be the beloved of any man, because of the very limitations of +semi-masculinity upon which she prided herself. Noel Lambert wanted a +womanly woman, and Lady Agnes was his ideal of what a wife should be. +Miss Greeby had in every possible way offered herself for the post, but +Lambert had never cared for her sufficiently to endure the thought of +passing through life with her beside him. He said she was "a good sort"; +and when a man says that of a woman, she may be to him a good friend, or +even a platonic chum, but she can never be a desirable wife in his eyes. +What Miss Greeby lacked was sex, and lacking that, lacked everything. It +was strange that with her rough common sense she could not grasp this +want. But the thought that Lambert required what she could never +give--namely, the feminine tenderness which strong masculine natures +love--never crossed her very clear and mathematical mind. + +So she was bent upon a fool's errand, as she strode towards the Abbot's +Wood, although she did not know it. Her aim was to capture Lambert as +her husband; and her plan, to accomplish her wish by working on the +heart-hunger he most probably felt, owing to the loss of Agnes Pine. If +he loved that lady in a chivalrous fashion--and Miss Greeby believed +that he did--she was absolutely lost to him as the wife of another man. +Lambert would never degrade her into a divorce court appearance. And +perhaps, after all, as Miss Greeby thought hopefully, his love for Sir +Hubert's wife might have turned to scorn that she had preferred money to +true love. But then, again, as Miss Greeby remembered, with a darkening +face, Agnes had married the millionaire so as to save the family estates +from being sold. Rank has its obligation, and Lambert might approve of +the sacrifice, since he was the next heir to the Garvington title. "We +shall see what his attitude is," decided Miss Greeby, as she entered the +Abbot's Wood, and delayed arranging her future plans until she fully +understood his feelings towards the woman he had lost. In the meantime, +Lambert would want a comrade, and Miss Greeby was prepared to sink her +romantic feelings, for the time being, in order to be one. + +The forest--which belonged to Garvington, so long as he paid the +interest on the mortgage--was not a very large one. In the old days it +had been of greater size and well stocked with wild animals; so well +stocked, indeed, that the abbots of a near monastery had used it for +many hundred years as a hunting ground. But the monastery had vanished +off the face of the earth, as not even its ruins were left, and the game +had disappeared as the forest grew smaller and the district around +became more populous. A Lambert of the Georgian period--the family name +of Lord Garvington was Lambert--had acquired what was left of the +monastic wood by winning it at a game of cards from the nobleman who had +then owned it. Now it was simply a large patch of green in the middle of +a somewhat naked county, for Hengishire is not remarkable for woodlands. +There were rabbits and birds, badgers, stoats, and such-like wild things +in it still, but the deer which the abbots had hunted were conspicuous +by their absence. Garvington looked after it about as much as he did +after the rest of his estates, which was not saying much. The fat, round +little lord's heart was always in the kitchen, and he preferred eating +to fulfilling his duties as a landlord. Consequently, the Abbot's Wood +was more or less public property, save when Garvington turned crusty and +every now and then cleared out all interlopers. But tramps came to sleep +in the wood, and gypsies camped in its glades, while summer time brought +many artists to rave about its sylvan beauties, and paint pictures of +ancient trees and silent pools, and rugged lawns besprinkled with +rainbow wild flowers. People who went to the Academy and to the various +art exhibitions in Bond Street knew the Abbot's Wood fairly well, as it +was rarely that at least one picture dealing with it did not appear. + +Miss Greeby had explored the wood before and knew exactly where to find +the cottage mentioned by Lady Garvington. On the verge of the trees she +saw the blue smoke of the gypsies' camp fires, and heard the vague +murmur of Romany voices, but, avoiding the vagrants, she took her way +through the forest by a winding path. This ultimately led her to a +spacious glade, in the centre of which stood a dozen or more rough +monoliths of mossy gray and weather-worn stones, disposed in a circle. +Probably these were all that remained of some Druidical temple, and +archaeologists came from far and near to view the weird relics. And in +the middle of the circle stood the cottage: a thatched dwelling, which +might have had to do with a fairy tale, with its whitewashed walls +covered with ivy, and its latticed windows, on the ledges of which stood +pots of homely flowers. There was no fence round this rustic dwelling, +as the monoliths stood as guardians, and the space between the cottage +walls and the gigantic stones was planted thickly with fragrant English +flowers. Snapdragon, sweet-william, marigolds, and scented clove +carnations, were all to be found there: also there was thyme, mint, +sage, and other pot-herbs. And the whole perfumed space was girdled by +trees old and young, which stood back from the emerald beauty of +untrimmed lawns. A more ideal spot for a dreamer, or an artist, or a +hermit, or for the straying prince of a fairy tale, it would have been +quite impossible to find. Miss Greeby's vigorous and coarse personality +seemed to break in a noisy manner--although she did not utter a single +word--the enchanted silence of the solitary place. + +However, the intruder was too matter-of-fact to trouble about the +sequestered liveliness of this unique dwelling. She strode across the +lawns, and passing beyond the monoliths, marched like an invader up the +narrow path between the radiant flower-beds. From the tiny green door +she raised the burnished knocker and brought it down with an emphatic +bang. Shortly the door opened with a pettish tug, as though the person +behind was rather annoyed by the noise, and a very tall, well-built, +slim young man made his appearance on the threshold. He held a palette +on the thumb of one hand, and clutched a sheaf of brushes, while another +brush was in his mouth, and luckily impeded a rather rough welcome. The +look in a pair of keen blue eyes certainly seemed to resent the +intrusion, but at the sight of Miss Greeby this irritability changed to +a glance of suspicion. Lambert, from old associations, liked his visitor +very well on the whole, but that feminine intuition, which all creative +natures possess, warned him that it was wise to keep her at arm's +length. She had never plainly told her love; but she had assuredly +hinted at it more or less by eye and manner and undue hauntings of his +footsteps when in London. He could not truthfully tell himself that he +was glad of her unexpected visit. For quite half a minute they stood +staring at one another, and Miss Greeby's hard cheeks flamed to a poppy +red at the sight of the man she loved. + +"Well, Hermit." she observed, when he made no remark. "As the mountain +would not come to Mahomet, the prophet has come to the mountain." + +"The mountain is welcome," said Lambert diplomatically, and stood +aside, so that she might enter. Then adopting the bluff and breezy, +rough-and-ready-man-to-man attitude, which Miss Greeby liked to see in +her friends, he added: "Come in, old girl! It's a pal come to see a pal, +isn't it?" + +"Rather," assented Miss Greeby, although, woman-like, she was not +entirely pleased with this unromantic welcome. "We played as brats +together, didn't we? + +"Yes," she added meditatively, when following Lambert into his studio, +"I think we are as chummy as a man and woman well can be." + +"True enough. You were always a good sort, Clara. How well you are +looking--more of a man than ever." + +"Oh, stop that!" said Miss Greeby roughly. + +"Why?" Lambert raised his eyebrows. "As a girl you always liked to be +thought manly, and said again and again that you wished you were a boy." + +"I find that I am a woman, after all," sighed the visitor, dropping into +a chair and looking round; "with a woman's feelings, too." + +"And very nice those feelings are, since they have influenced you to pay +me a visit in the wilds," remarked the artist imperturbably. + +"What are you doing in the wilds?" + +"Painting," was the laconic retort. + +"So I see. Still-life pictures?" + +"Not exactly." He pointed toward the easel. "Behold and approve." + +Miss Greeby did behold, but she certainly did not approve, because she +was a woman and in love. It was only a pictured head she saw, but the +head was that of a very beautiful girl, whose face smiled from the +canvas in a subtle, defiant way, as if aware of its wild loveliness. The +raven hair streamed straightly down to the shoulders--for the bust of +the model was slightly indicated--and there, bunched out into curls. A +red and yellow handkerchief was knotted round the brows, and dangling +sequins added to its barbaric appearance. Nose and lips and eyes, and +contours, were all perfect, and it really seemed as though the face were +idealized, so absolutely did it respond to all canons of beauty. It was +a gypsy countenance, and there lurked in its loveliness that wild, +untamed look which suggested unrestricted roamings and the spacious +freedom of the road. + +The sudden, jealous fear which surged into Miss Greeby's heart climbed +to her throat and choked her speech. But she had wisdom enough to check +unwise words, and glanced round the studio to recover her composure. The +room was small and barely furnished; a couch, two deep arm-chairs, and a +small table filled its limited area. The walls and roof were painted a +pale green, and a carpet of the same delicate hue covered the floor. Of +course, there were the usual painting materials, brushes and easel and +palettes and tubes of color, together with a slightly raised platform +near the one window where the model could sit or stand. The window +itself had no curtains and was filled with plain glass, affording plenty +of light. + +"The other windows of the cottage are latticed," said Lambert, seeing +his visitor's eyes wander in that direction. "I had that glass put in +when I came here a month ago. No light can filter through lattices--in +sufficient quantity that is--to see the true tones of the colors." + +"Oh, bother the window!" muttered Miss Greeby restlessly, for she had +not yet gained command of her emotions. + +Lambert laughed and looked at his picture with his head on one side, and +a very handsome head it was, as Miss Greeby thought. "It bothered me +until I had it put right, I assure you. But you don't seem pleased with +my crib." + +"It's not good enough for you." + +"Since when have I been a sybarite, Clara?" + +"I mean you ought to think of your position." + +"It's too unpleasant to think about," rejoined Lambert, throwing himself +on the couch and producing his pipe. "May I smoke?" + +"Yes, and if you have any decent cigarettes I'll join you. Thanks!" She +deftly caught the silver case he threw her. "But your position?" + +"Five hundred a year and no occupation, since I have been brought up to +neither trade nor profession," said Lambert leisurely. "Well?" + +"You are the heir to a title and to a large property." + +"Which is heavily mortgaged. As to the title"--Lambert shrugged his +shoulders--"Garvington's wife may have children." + +"I don't think so. They have been married ten years and more. You are +certain to come in for everything." + +"Everything consists of nothing," said the artist coolly. + +"Well," drawled Miss Greeby, puffing luxuriously at her cigarette, which +was Turkish and soothing, "nothing may turn into something when these +mortgages are cleared off." + +"Who is going to clear them off?" + +"Sir Hubert Pine." + +Lambert's brows contracted, as she knew they would when this name was +mentioned, and he carefully attended to filling his pipe so as to avoid +meeting her hard, inquisitive eyes. "Pine is a man of business, and if +he pays off the mortgages he will take over the property as security. I +don't see that Garvington will be any the better off in that case." + +"Lambert," said Miss Greeby very decidedly, and determined to know +precisely what he felt like, "Garvington only allowed his sister to +marry Sir Hubert because he was rich. I don't know for certain, of +course, but I should think it probable that he made an arrangement with +Pine to have things put straight because of the marriage." + +"Possible and probable," said the artist shortly, and wincing; "but old +friend as you are, Clara, I don't see the necessity of talking about +business which does not concern me. Speak to Garvington." + +"Agnes concerns you." + +"How objectionably direct you are," exclaimed Lambert in a vexed tone. +"And how utterly wrong. Agnes does not concern me in the least. I loved +her, but as she chose to marry Pine, why there's no more to be said." + +"If there was nothing more to be said," observed Miss Greeby shrewdly, +"you would not be burying yourself here." + +"Why not? I am fond of nature and art, and my income is not enough to +permit my living decently in London. I had to leave the army because I +was so poor. Garvington has given me this cottage rent free, so I'm +jolly enough with my painting and with Mrs. Tribb as housekeeper and +cook. She's a perfect dream of a cook," ended Lambert thoughtfully. + +Miss Greeby shook her red head. "You can't deceive me." + +"Who wants to, anyhow?" demanded the man, unconsciously American. + +"You do. You wish to make out that you prefer to camp here instead of +admitting that you would like to be at The Manor because Agnes--" + +Lambert jumped up crossly. "Oh, leave Agnes out of the question. She is +Pine's wife, so that settles things. It's no use crying for the moon, +and--" + +"Then you still wish for the moon," interpolated the woman quickly. + +"Not even you have the right to ask me such a question," replied Lambert +in a quiet and decisive tone. "Let us change the subject." + +Miss Greeby pointed to the beautiful face smiling on the easel. "I +advise you to," she said significantly. + +"You seem to have come here to give me good advice." + +"Which you won't take," she retorted. + +"Because it isn't needed." + +"A man's a man and a woman's a woman." + +"That's as true as taxes, as Mr. Barkis observed, if you are acquainted +with the writings of the late Charles Dickens. Well?" + +Again Miss Greeby pointed to the picture. "She's very pretty." + +"I shouldn't have painted her otherwise." + +"Oh, then the original of that portrait does exist?" + +"Could you call it a portrait if an original didn't exist?" demanded +the young man tartly. "Since you want to know so much, you may as well +come to the gypsy encampment on the verge of the wood and satisfy +yourself." He threw on a Panama hat, with a cross look. "Since when have +you come to the conclusion that I need a dry nurse?" + +"Oh, don't talk bosh!" said Miss Greeby vigorously, and springing to her +feet. "You take me at the foot of the letter and too seriously. I only +came here to see how my old pal was getting on." + +"I'm all right and as jolly as a sandboy. Now are you satisfied?" + +"Quite. Only don't fall in love with the original of your portrait." + +"It's rather late in the day to warn me," said Lambert dryly, "for I +have known the girl for six months. I met her in a gypsy caravan when on +a walking tour, and offered to paint her. She is down here with her +people, and you can see her whenever you have a mind to." + +"There's no time like the present," said Miss Greeby, accepting the +offer with alacrity. "Come along, old boy." Then, when they stepped out +of the cottage garden on to the lawns, she asked pointedly, "What is her +name?" + +"Chaldea." + +"Nonsense. That is the name of the country." + +"I never denied that, my dear girl. But Chaldea was born in the country +whence she takes her name. Down Mesopotamia way, I believe. These +gypsies wander far and wide, you know. She's very pretty, and has the +temper of the foul fiend himself. Only Kara can keep her in order." + +"Who is Kara?" + +"A Servian gypsy who plays the fiddle like an angel. He's a +crooked-backed, black-faced, hairy ape of a dwarf, but highly popular on +account of his music. Also, he's crazy about Chaldea, and loves her to +distraction." + +"Does she love him?" Miss Greeby asked in her direct fashion. + +"No," replied Lambert, coloring under his tan, and closed his lips +firmly. He was a very presentable figure of a man, as he walked beside +the unusually tall woman. His face was undeniably handsome in a fair +Saxon fashion, and his eyes were as blue as those of Miss Greeby +herself, while his complexion was much more delicate. In fact, she +considered that it was much too good a complexion for one of the male +sex, but admitted inwardly that its possessor was anything but +effeminate, when he had such a heavy jaw, such a firm chin, and such set +lips. Lambert, indeed, at first sight did indeed look so amiable, as to +appear for the moment quite weak; but danger always stiffened him into a +dangerous adversary, and his face when aroused was most unpleasantly +fierce. He walked with a military swing, his shoulders well set back and +his head crested like that of a striking serpent. A rough and warlike +life would have brought out his best points of endurance, capability to +plan and strike quickly, and iron decision; but the want of opportunity +and the enervating influences of civilized existence, made him a man of +possibilities. When time, and place, and chance offered he could act the +hero with the best; but lacking these things he remained innocuous like +gunpowder which has no spark to fire it. + +Thinking of these things, Miss Greeby abandoned the subject of Chaldea, +and of her possible love for Lambert, and exclaimed impulsively, "Why +don't you chuck civilization and strike the out-trail?" + +"Why should I?" he asked, unmoved, and rather surprised by the change of +the subject. "I'm quite comfortable here." + +"Too comfortable," she retorted with emphasis. "This loafing life of +just-enough-to-live-on doesn't give you a chance to play the man. Go out +and fight and colonize and prove your qualities." + +Lambert's color rose again, and his eyes sparkled. "I would if the +chance--" + +"Ah, bah, Hercules and Omphale!" interrupted his companion. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Never mind," retorted Miss Greeby, who guessed that he knew what she +meant very well. His quick flush showed her how he resented this +classical allusion to Agnes Pine. "You'd carry her off if you were a +man." + +"Chaldea?" asked Lambert, wilfully misunderstanding her meaning. + +"If you like. Only don't try to carry her off at night. Garvington says +he will shoot any burglar who comes along after dark." + +"I never knew Garvington had anything to do with Chaldea." + +"Neither did I. Oh, I think you know very well what I mean." + +"Perhaps I do," said the young man with an angry shrug, for really her +interference with his affairs seemed to be quite unjustifiable. "But I +am not going to bring a woman I respect into the Divorce Court." + +"Respect? Love, you mean to say." + +Lambert stopped, and faced her squarely. "I don't wish to quarrel with +you, Clara, as we are very old friends. But I warn you that I do possess +a temper, and if you wish to see it, you are going the best way to get +what you evidently want. Now, hold your tongue and talk of something +else. Here is Chaldea." + +"Watching for you," muttered Miss Greeby, as the slight figure of the +gypsy girl was seen advancing swiftly. "Ha!" and she snorted +suspiciously. + +"Rye!" cried Chaldea, dancing toward the artist. "Sarishan rye." + +Miss Greeby didn't understand Romany, but the look in the girl's eyes +was enough to reveal the truth. If Lambert did not love his beautiful +model, it was perfectly plain that the beautiful model loved Lambert. + +"O baro duvel atch' pa leste!" said Chaldea, and clapped her slim hands. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION. + + +"I wish you wouldn't speak the calo jib to me, Chaldea," said Lambert, +smiling on the beautiful eager face. "You know I don't understand it." + +"Nor I," put in Miss Greeby in her manly tones. "What does Oh baro devil, +and all the rest of it mean?" + +"The Great God be with you," translated Chaldea swiftly, "and duvel is +not devil as you Gorgios call it." + +"Only the difference of a letter," replied the Gentile lady +good-humoredly. "Show us round your camp, my good girl." + +The mere fact that the speaker was in Lambert's company, let alone the +offensively patronizing tone in which she spoke, was enough to rouse the +gypsy girl's naturally hot temper. She retreated and swayed like a cat +making ready to spring, while her black eyes snapped fire in a most +unpleasant manner. + +But Miss Greeby was not to be frightened by withering glances, and +merely laughed aloud, showing her white teeth. Her rough merriment and +masculine looks showed Chaldea that, as a rival, she was not to be +feared, so the angry expression on the dark face changed to a wheedling +smile. + +"Avali! Avali! The Gorgios lady wants her fortune told." + +For the sake of diplomacy Miss Greeby nodded and fished in her pocket. +"I'll give you half a crown to tell it." + +"Not me--not me, dear lady. Mother Cockleshell is our great witch." + +"Take me to her then," replied the other, and rapidly gathered into her +brain all she could of Chaldea's appearance. + +Lambert had painted a very true picture of the girl, although to a +certain extent he had idealized her reckless beauty. Chaldea's looks had +been damaged and roughened by wind and rain, by long tramps, and by +glaring sunshine. Yet she was superlatively handsome with her warm and +swarthy skin, under which the scarlet blood circled freely. To an oval +face, a slightly hooked nose and two vermilion lips, rather full, she +added the glossy black eyes of the true Romany, peaked at the corners. +Her jetty hair descended smoothly from under a red handkerchief down to +her shoulders, and there, at the tips, became tangled and curling. Her +figure was magnificent, and she swayed and swung from the hips with an +easy grace, which reminded the onlookers of a panther's lithe movements. +And there was a good deal of the dangerous beast-of-prey beauty about +Chaldea, which was enhanced by her picturesque dress. This was ragged +and patched with all kinds of colored cloths subdued to mellow tints by +wear and weather. Also she jingled with coins and beads and barbaric +trinkets of all kinds. Her hands were perfectly formed, and so doubtless +were her feet, although these last were hidden by heavy laced-up boots. +On the whole, she was an extremely picturesque figure, quite comforting +to the artistic eye amidst the drab sameness of latterday civilization. + +"All the same, I suspect she is a sleeping volcano," whispered Miss +Greeby in her companion's ear as they followed the girl through the camp. + +"Scarcely sleeping," answered Lambert in the same tone. "She explodes on +the slightest provocation, and not without damaging results." + +"Well, you ought to know. But if you play with volcanic fire you'll burn +more than your clever fingers." + +"Pooh! The girl is only a model." + +"Ha! Not much of the lay figure about her, anyway." + +Lambert, according to his custom, shrugged his shoulders and did not +seek to explain further. If Miss Greeby chose to turn her fancies into +facts, she was at liberty to do so. Besides, her attention was luckily +attracted by the vivid life of the vagrants which hummed and bustled +everywhere. The tribe was a comparatively large one, and--as Miss Greeby +learned later--consisted of Lees, Loves, Bucklands, Hernes, and others, +all mixed up together in one gypsy stew. The assemblage embraced many +clans, and not only were there pure gypsies, but even many diddikai, or +half-bloods, to be seen. Perhaps the gradually diminishing Romany clans +found it better to band together for mutual benefit than to remain +isolated units. But the camp certainly contained many elements, and +these, acting co-operatively, formed a large and somewhat reckless +community, which justified Garvington's alarm. A raid in the night by +one or two, or three, or more of these lean, wiry, dangerous-looking +outcasts was not to be despised. But it must be admitted that, in a +general way, law and order prevailed in the encampment. + +There were many caravans, painted in gay colors and hung round with +various goods, such as brushes and brooms, goat-skin rugs, and much +tinware, together with baskets of all sorts and sizes. The horses, which +drew these rainbow-hued vehicles, were pasturing on the outskirts of the +camp, hobbled for the most part. Interspersed among the travelling homes +stood tents great and small, wherein the genuine Romany had their abode, +but the autumn weather was so fine that most of the inmates preferred to +sleep in the moonshine. Of course, there were plenty of dogs quarrelling +over bones near various fires, or sleeping with one eye open in odd +corners, and everywhere tumbled and laughed and danced, brown-faced, +lithe-limbed children, who looked uncannily Eastern. And the men, +showing their white teeth in smiles, together with the fawning women, +young and handsome, or old and hideously ugly, seemed altogether alien +to the quiet, tame domestic English landscape. There was something +prehistoric about the scene, and everywhere lurked that sense of +dangerous primeval passions held in enforced check which might burst +forth on the very slightest provocation. + +"It's a migrating tribe of Aryans driven to new hunting grounds by +hunger or over-population," said Miss Greeby, for even her unromantic +nature was stirred by the unusual picturesqueness of the scene. "The +sight of these people and the reek of their fires make me feel like a +cave-woman. There is something magnificent about this brutal freedom." + +"Very sordid magnificence," replied Lambert, raising his shoulders. "But +I understand your feelings. On occasions we all have the nostalgia of +the primitive life at times, and delight to pass from ease to hardship." + +"Well, civilization isn't much catch, so far as I can see," argued his +companion. "It makes men weaklings." + +"Certainly not women," he answered, glancing sideways at her Amazonian +figure. + +"I agree with you. For some reason, men are going down while women are +going up, both physically and mentally. I wonder what the future of +civilized races will be." + +"Here is Mother Cockleshell. Best ask her." + +The trio had reached a small tent at the very end of the camp by this +time, snugly set up under a spreading oak and near the banks of a +babbling brook. Their progress had not been interrupted by any claims on +their attention or purses, for a wink from Chaldea had informed her +brother and sister gypsies that the Gentile lady had come to consult the +queen of the tribe. And, like Lord Burleigh's celebrated nod, Chaldea's +wink could convey volumes. At all events, Lambert and his companion were +unmolested, and arrived in due course before the royal palace. A +croaking voice announced that the queen was inside her Arab tent, and +she was crooning some Romany song. Chaldea did not open her mouth, but +simply snapped her fingers twice or thrice rapidly. The woman within +must have had marvellously sharp ears, for she immediately stopped her +incantation--the songs sounded like one--and stepped forth. + +"Oh!" said Miss Greeby, stepping back, "I am disappointed." + +She had every reason to be after the picturesqueness of the camp in +general, and Chaldea in particular, for Mother Cockleshell looked like a +threadbare pew-opener, or an almshouse widow who had seen better days. +Apparently she was very old, for her figure had shrivelled up into a +diminutive monkey form, and she looked as though a moderately high wind +could blow her about like a feather. Her face was brown and puckered and +lined in a most wonderful fashion. Where a wrinkle could be, there a +wrinkle was, and her nose and chin were of the true nutcracker order, as +a witch's should be. Only her eyes betrayed the powerful vitality that +still animated the tiny frame, for these were large and dark, and had in +them a piercing look which seemed to gaze not at any one, but through +and beyond. Her figure, dried like that of a mummy, was surprisingly +straight for one of her ancient years, and her profuse hair was scarcely +touched with the gray of age. Arrayed in a decent black dress, with a +decent black bonnet and a black woollen shawl, the old lady looked +intensely respectable. There was nothing of the picturesque vagrant +about her. Therefore Miss Greeby, and with every reason, was +disappointed, and when the queen of the woodland spoke she was still +more so, for Mother Cockleshell did not even interlard her English +speech with Romany words, as did Chaldea. + +"Good day to you, my lady, and to you, sir," said Mother Cockleshell in +a stronger and harsher voice than would have been expected from one of +her age and diminished stature. "I hope I sees you well," and she +dropped a curtsey, just like any village dame who knew her manners. + +"Oh!" cried Miss Greeby again. "You don't look a bit like a gypsy queen." + +"Ah, my lady, looks ain't everything. But I'm a true-bred Romany--a +Stanley of Devonshire. Gentilla is my name and the tent my home, and I +can tell fortunes as no one else on the road can." + +"Avali, and that is true," put in Chaldea eagerly. "Gentilla's a bori +chovihani." + +"The child means that I am a great witch, my lady," said the old dame +with another curtsey. "Though she's foolish to use Romany words to +Gentiles as don't understand the tongue which the dear Lord spoke in +Eden's garden, as the good Book tells us." + +"In what part of the Bible do you find that?" asked Lambert laughing. + +"Oh, my sweet gentleman, it ain't for the likes of me to say things to +the likes of you," said Mother Cockleshell, getting out of her +difficulty very cleverly, "but the dear lady wants her fortune told, +don't she?" + +"Why don't you say dukkerin?" + +"I don't like them wicked words, sir," answered Mother Cockleshell +piously. + +"Wicked words," muttered Chaldea tossing her black locks. "And them true +Romany as was your milk tongue. No wonder the Gentiles don't fancy you a +true one of the road. If I were queen of--" + +A vicious little devil flashed out of the old woman's eyes, and her +respectable looks changed on the instant. "Tol yer chib, or I'll heat +the bones of you with the fires of Bongo Tem," she screamed furiously, +and in a mixture of her mother-tongue and English. "Ja pukenus, slut of +the gutter," she shook her fist, and Chaldea, with an insulting laugh, +moved away. "Bengis your see! Bengis your see! And that, my generous +lady," she added, turning round with a sudden resumption of her fawning +respectability, "means 'the devil in your heart,' which I spoke +witchly-like to the child. Ah, but she's a bad one." + +Miss Greeby laughed outright. "This is more like the real thing." + +"Poor Chaldea," said Lambert. "You're too hard on her, mother." + +"And you, my sweet gentleman, ain't hard enough. She'll sell you, and +get Kara to put the knife between your ribs." + +"Why should he? I'm not in love with the girl." + +"The tree don't care for the ivy, but the ivy loves the tree," said +Mother Cockleshell darkly. "You're a good and kind gentleman, and I +don't want to see that slut pick your bones." + +"So I think," whispered Miss Greeby in his ear. "You play with fire." + +"Aye, my good lady," said Mother Cockleshell, catching the whisper--she +had the hearing of a cat. "With the fire of Bongo Tern, the which you +may call The Crooked Land," and she pointed significantly downward. + +"Hell, do you mean?" asked Miss Greeby in her bluff way. + +"The Crooked Land we Romany calls it," insisted the old woman. "And the +child will go there, for her witchly doings." + +"She's too good-looking to lose as a model, at all events," said +Lambert, hitching his shoulders. "I shall leave you to have your fortune +told, Clara, and follow Chaldea to pacify her." + +As he went toward the centre of the camp, Miss Greeby took a hesitating +step as though to follow him. In her opinion Chaldea was much too +good-looking, let alone clever, for Lambert to deal with alone. Gentilla +Stanley saw the look on the hard face and the softening of the hard eyes +as the cheeks grew rosy red. From this emotion she drew her conclusions, +and she chuckled to think of how true a fortune she could tell the +visitor on these premises. Mother Cockleshell's fortune-telling was not +entirely fraudulent, but when her clairvoyance was not in working order +she made use of character-reading with good results. + +"Won't the Gorgios lady have her fortune told?" she asked in wheedling +tones. "Cross Mother Cockleshell's hand with silver and she'll tell the +coming years truly." + +"Why do they call you Mother Cockleshell?" demanded Miss Greeby, waiving +the question of fortune-telling for the time being. + +"Bless your wisdom, it was them fishermen at Grimsby who did so. I +walked the beaches for years and told charms and gave witchly spells for +fine weather. Gentilla Stanley am I called, but Mother Cockleshell was +their name for me. But the fortune, my tender Gentile--" + +"I don't want it told," interrupted Miss Greeby abruptly. "I don't +believe in such rubbish." + +"There is rubbish and there is truth," said the ancient gypsy darkly. +"And them as knows can see what's hidden from others." + +"Well, you will have an opportunity this afternoon of making money. Some +fools from The Manor are coming to consult you." + +Mother Cockleshell nodded and grinned to show a set of beautifully +preserved teeth. "I know The Manor," said she, rubbing her slim hands. +"And Lord Garvington, with his pretty sister." + +"Lady Agnes Pine?" asked Miss Greeby. "How do you know, her?" + +"I've been in these parts before, my gentle lady, and she was good to me +in a sick way. I would have died in the hard winter if she hadn't fed me +and nursed me, so to speak. I shall love to see her again. To dick a +puro pal is as commoben as a aushti habben, the which, my precious +angel, is true Romany for the Gentile saying, 'To see an old friend is +as good as a fine dinner.' Avali! Avali!" she nodded smilingly. "I shall +be glad to see her, though here I use Romany words to you as doesn't +understand the lingo." + +Miss Greeby was not at all pleased to hear Lady Agnes praised; as, +knowing that Lambert had loved her, and probably loved her still, she +was jealous enough to wish her all possible harm. However, it was not +diplomatic to reveal her true feelings to Mother Cockleshell, lest the +old gypsy should repeat her words to Lady Agnes, so she turned the +conversation by pointing to a snow-white cat of great size, who stepped +daintily out of the tent. "I should think, as a witch, your cat ought to +be black," said Miss Greeby. Mother Cockleshell screeched like a +night-owl and hastily pattered some gypsy spell to avert evil. "Why, the +old devil is black," she cried. "And why should I have him in my house +to work evil? This is my white ghost." Her words were accompanied by a +gentle stroking of the cat. "And good is what she brings to my +roof-tree. But I don't eat from white dishes, or drink from white mugs. +No! No! That would be too witchly." + +Miss Greeby mused. "I have heard something about these gypsy +superstitions before," she remarked meditatively. + +"Avo! Avo! They are in a book written by a great Romany Rye. Leland is +the name of that rye, a gypsy Lee with Gentile land. He added land to +the lea as he was told by one of our people. Such a nice gentleman, +kind, and free of his money and clever beyond tellings, as I always +says. Many a time has he sat pal-like with me, and 'Gentilla,' says he, +'your're a bori chovihani'; and that, my generous lady, is the gentle +language for a great witch." + +"Chaldea said that you were that," observed Miss Greeby carelessly. + +"The child speaks truly. Come, cross my hand, sweet lady." + +Miss Greeby passed along half a crown. "I only desire to know one +thing," she said, offering her palm. "Shall I get my wish?" + +Mother Cockleshell peered into the hands, although she had already made +up her mind what to say. Her faculties, sharpened by years of chicanery, +told her from the look which Miss Greeby had given when Lambert followed +Chaldea, that a desire to marry the man was the wish in question. And +seeing how indifferent Lambert was in the presence of the tall lady, +Mother Cockleshell had no difficulty in adjusting the situation in her +own artful mind. "No, my lady," she said, casting away the hand with +quite a dramatic gesture. "You will never gain your wish." + +Miss Greeby looked angry. "Bah! Your fortune-telling is all rubbish, as +I have always thought," and she moved away. + +"Tell me that in six months," screamed the old woman after her. + +"Why six months?" demanded the other, pausing. + +"Ah, that's a dark saying," scoffed the gypsy. "Call it seven, my +hopeful-for-what-you-won't-get, like the cat after the cream, for +seven's a sacred number, and the spell is set." + +"Gypsy jargon, gypsy lies," muttered Miss Greeby, tossing her ruddy +mane. "I don't believe a word. Tell me--" + +"There's no time to say more," interrupted Mother Cockleshell rudely, +for, having secured her money, she did not think it worth while to be +polite, especially in the face of her visitor's scepticism. "One of our +tribe--aye, and he's a great Romany for sure--is coming to camp with us. +Each minute he may come, and I go to get ready a stew of hedgehog, for +Gentile words I must use to you, who are a Gorgio. And so good day to +you, my lady," ended the old hag, again becoming the truly respectable +pew-opener. Then she dropped a curtsey--whether ironical or not, Miss +Greeby could not tell--and disappeared into the tent, followed by the +white cat, who haunted her footsteps like the ghost she declared it to +be. + +Clearly there was nothing more to be learned from Mother Cockleshell, +who, in the face of her visitor's doubts, had become hostile, so Miss +Greeby, dismissing the whole episode as over and done with, turned her +attention toward finding Lambert. With her bludgeon under her arm and +her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she stalked through the camp in +quite a masculine fashion, not vouchsafing a single reply to the +greetings which the gypsies gave her. Shortly she saw the artist +chatting with Chaldea at the beginning of the path which led to his +cottage. Beside them, on the grass, squatted a queer figure. + +It was that of a little man, very much under-sized, with a hunch back +and a large, dark, melancholy face covered profusely with black hair. He +wore corduroy trousers and clumsy boots--his feet and hands were +enormous--together with a green coat and a red handkerchief which was +carelessly twisted round his hairy throat. On his tangled +locks--distressingly shaggy and unkempt--he wore no hat, and he looked +like a brownie, grotesque, though somewhat sad. But even more did he +resemble an ape--or say the missing link--and only his eyes seemed +human. These were large, dark and brilliant, sparkling like jewels under +his elf-locks. He sat cross-legged on the sward and hugged a fiddle, as +though he were nursing a baby. And, no doubt, he was as attached to his +instrument as any mother could be to her child. It was not difficult for +Miss Greeby to guess that this weird, hairy dwarf was the Servian gypsy +Kara, of whom Lambert had spoken. She took advantage of the knowledge to +be disagreeable to the girl. + +"Is this your husband?" asked Miss Greeby amiably. + +Chaldea's eyes flashed and her cheeks grew crimson. "Not at all," she +said contemptuously. "I have no rom." + +"Ah, your are not married?" + +"No," declared Chaldea curtly, and shot a swift glance at Lambert. + +"She is waiting for the fairy prince," said that young gentleman +smiling. "And he is coming to this camp almost immediately." + +"Ishmael Hearne is coming," replied the gypsy. "But he is no rom of +mine, and never will be." + +"Who is he, then?" asked Lambert carelessly. + +"One of the great Romany." + +Miss Greeby remembered that Mother Cockleshell had also spoken of the +expected arrival at the camp in these terms. "A kind of king?" she +asked. + +Chaldea laughed satirically. "Yes; a kind of king," she assented; then +turned her back rudely on the speaker and addressed Lambert: "I can't +come, rye. Ishmael will want to see me. I must wait." + +"What a nuisance," said Lambert, looking annoyed. "Fancy, Clara. I have +an idea of painting these two as Beauty and the Beast, or perhaps as +Esmeralda and Quasimodo. I want them to come to the cottage and sit now, +but they will wait for this confounded Ishmael." + +"We can come to-morrow," put in Chaldea quickly. "This afternoon I must +dance for Ishmael, and Kara must play." + +"Ishmael will meet with a fine reception," said Miss Greeby, and then, +anxious to have a private conversation with Chaldea so as to disabuse +her mind of any idea she may have entertained of marrying Lambert, she +added, "I think I shall stay and see him." + +"In that case, I shall return to my cottage," replied Lambert, +sauntering up the pathway, which was strewn with withered leaves. + +"When are you coming to The Manor?" called Miss Greeby after him. + +"Never! I am too busy," he replied over his shoulder and disappeared +into the wood. This departure may seem discourteous, but then Miss +Greeby liked to be treated like a comrade and without ceremony. That +is, she liked it so far as other men were concerned, but not as regards +Lambert. She loved him too much to approve of his careless leave-taking, +and therefore she frowned darkly, as she turned her attention to +Chaldea. + +The girl saw that Miss Greeby was annoyed, and guessed the cause of her +annoyance. The idea that this red-haired and gaunt woman should love the +handsome Gorgio was so ludicrous in Chaldea's eyes that she laughed in +an ironical fashion. Miss Greeby turned on her sharply, but before she +could speak there was a sound of many voices raised in welcome. +"Sarishan pal! Sarishan ba!" cried the voices, and Chaldea started. + +"Ishmael!" she said, and ran toward the camp, followed leisurely by +Kara. + +Anxious to see the great Romany, whose arrival caused all this +commotion, Miss Greeby plunged into the crowd of excited vagrants. These +surrounded a black horse, on which sat a slim, dark-faced man of the +true Romany breed. Miss Greeby stared at him and blinked her eyes, as +though she could not believe what they beheld, while the man waved his +hand and responded to the many greetings in gypsy language. His eyes +finally met her own as she stood on the outskirts of the crowd, and he +started. Then she knew. "Sir Hubert Pine," said Miss Greeby, still +staring. "Sir Hubert Pine!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SECRETS. + + +The scouting crowd apparently did not catch the name, so busy were one +and all in welcoming the newcomer. But the man on the horse saw Miss +Greeby's startled look, and noticed that her lips were moving. In a +moment he threw himself off the animal and elbowed his way roughly +through the throng. + +"Sir Hubert," began Miss Greeby, only to be cut short hastily. + +"Don't give me away," interrupted Pine, who here was known as Ishmael +Hearne. "Wait till I settle things, and then we can converse privately." + +"All right," answered the lady, nodding, and gripped her bludgeon +crosswise behind her back with two hands. She was so surprised at the +sight of the millionaire in the wood, that she could scarcely speak. + +Satisfied that she grasped the situation, Pine turned to his friends and +spoke at length in fluent Romany. He informed them that he had some +business to transact with the Gentile lady who had come to the camp for +that purpose, and would leave them for half an hour. The man evidently +was such a favorite that black looks were cast on Miss Greeby for +depriving the Romany of his society. But Pine paid no attention to these +signs of discontent. He finished his speech, and then pushed his way +again toward the lady who, awkwardly for him, was acquainted with his +true position as a millionaire. In a hurried whisper he asked Miss +Greeby to follow him, and led the way into the heart of the wood. +Apparently he knew it very well, and knew also where to seek solitude +for the private conversation he desired, for he skirted the central +glade where Lambert's cottage was placed, and finally guided his +companion to a secluded dell, far removed from the camp of his brethren. +Here he sat down on a mossy stone, and stared with piercing black eyes +at Miss Greeby. + +"What are you doing here?" he demanded imperiously. + +"Just the question I was about to put to you," said Miss Greeby amiably. +She could afford to be amiable, for she felt that she was the mistress +of the situation. Pine evidently saw this, for he frowned. + +"You must have guessed long ago that I was a gypsy," he snapped +restlessly. + +"Indeed I didn't, nor, I should think, did any one else. I thought you +had nigger blood in you, and I have heard people say that you came from +the West Indies. But what does it matter if you are a gypsy? There is no +disgrace in being one." + +"No disgrace, certainly," rejoined the millionaire, leaning forward and +linking his hands together, while he stared at the ground. "I am proud +of having the gentle Romany blood. All the same I prefer the West Indian +legend, for I don't want any of my civilized friends to know that I am +Ishmael Hearne, born and bred in a tent." + +"Well, that's natural, Pine. What would Garvington say?" + +"Oh, curse Garvington!" + +"Curse the whole family by all means," retorted Miss Greeby coolly. + +Pine looked up savagely, "I except my wife." + +"Naturally. You always were uxorious." + +"Perhaps," said Pine gloomily, "I'm a fool where Agnes is concerned." + +Miss Greeby quite agreed with this statement, but did not think it worth +while to indorse so obvious a remark. She sat down in her turn, and +taking Lambert's cigarette case, which she had retained by accident, out +of her pocket, she prepared to smoke. The two were entirely alone in the +fairy dell, and the trees which girdled it were glorious with vivid +autumnal tints. A gentle breeze sighing through the wood, shook down +yew, crisp leaves on the woman's head, so that she looked like Danae in +a shower of gold. Pine gazed heavily at the ground and coughed +violently. Miss Greeby knew that cough, and a medical friend of hers +had told her several times that Sir Hubert was a very consumptive +individual. He certainly looked ill, and apparently had not long to +live. And if he died, Lady Agnes, inheriting his wealth, would be more +desirable as a wife than ever. And Miss Greeby, guessing whose wife she +would be, swore inwardly that the present husband should look so +delicate. But she showed no sign of her perturbations, but lighted her +cigarette with a steady hand and smoked quietly. She always prided +herself on her nerve. + +The millionaire was tall and lean, with a sinewy frame, and an oval, +olive-complexioned face. It was clean-shaven, and with his aquiline +nose, his thin lips, and brilliant black eyes, which resembled those of +Kara, he looked like a long-descended Hindoo prince. The Eastern blood +of the Romany showed in his narrow feet and slim brown hands, and there +was a wild roving look about him, which Miss Greeby had not perceived in +London. + +"I suppose it's the dress," she said aloud, and eyed Pine critically. + +"What do you say, Miss Greeby?" he asked, looking up in a sharp, +startled manner, and again coughing in a markedly consumptive way. + +"The cowl makes the monk in your case," replied the woman quietly. "Your +corduroy breeches and velveteen coat, with that colored shirt, and the +yellow handkerchief round your neck, seem to suit you better than did +the frock coats and evening dress I have seen you in. You did look like +a nigger of sorts when in those clothes; now I can tell you are a gypsy +with half an eye." + +"That is because you heard me called Ishmael and saw me among my kith +and kin," said the man with a tired smile. "Don't tell Agnes." + +"Why should I? It's none of my business if you chose to masquerade as a +gypsy." + +"I masquerade as Sir Hubert Pine," retorted the millionaire, slipping +off the stone to sprawl full-length on the grass. "I am truly and really +one of the lot in the camp yonder." + +"Do they know you by your Gentile name?" + +Pine laughed. "You are picking up the gypsy lingo, Miss Greeby. No. +Every one on the road takes me for what I am, Ishmael Hearne, and my +friends in the civilized world think I am Sir Hubert Pine, a millionaire +with colored blood in his veins." + +"How do you come to have a double personality and live a double life?" + +"Oh, that is easily explained, and since you have found me out it is +just as well that I should explain, so that you may keep my secret, at +all events from my wife, as she would be horrified to think that she had +married a gypsy. You promise?" + +"Of course. I shall say nothing. But perhaps she would prefer to know +that she had married a gypsy rather than a nigger." + +"What polite things you say," said Pine sarcastically. "However, I can't +afford to quarrel with you. As you are rich, I can't even bribe you to +silence, so I must rely on your honor." + +"Oh, I have some," Miss Greeby assured him lightly. + +"When it suits you," he retorted doubtfully. + +"It does on this occasion." + +"Why?" + +"I'll tell you that when you have related your story." + +"There is really none to tell. I was born and brought up on the road, +and thinking I was wasting my life I left my people and entered +civilization. In London I worked as a clerk, and being clever I soon +made money. I got hold of a man who invented penny toys, and saw the +possibilities of making a fortune. I really didn't, but I collected +enough money to dabble in stocks and shares. The South African boom was +on, and I made a thousand. Other speculations created more than a +million out of my thousand, and now I have over two millions, honestly +made." + +"Honestly?" queried Miss Greeby significantly. + +"Yes; I assure you, honestly. We gypsies are cleverer than you Gentiles, +and we have the same money-making faculties as the Jews have. If my +people were not so fond of the vagrant life they would soon become a +power in the money markets of the world. But, save in the case of +myself, we leave all such grubbing to the Jews. I did grub, and my +reward is that I have accumulated a fortune in a remarkably short space +of time. I have land and houses, and excellent investments, and a title, +which," he added sarcastically, "a grateful Government bestowed on me +for using my money properly." + +"You bought the title by helping the political party you belonged to," +said Miss Greeby with a shrug. "There was quite a talk about it." + +"So there was. As if I cared for talk. However, that is my story." + +"Not all of it. You are supposed to be in Paris, and--" + +"And you find me here," interrupted Pine with a faint smile. "Well you +see, being a gypsy, I can't always endure that under-the-roof life you +Gentiles live. I must have a spell of the open road occasionally. And, +moreover, as my doctor tells me that I have phthisis, and that I should +live as much as possible in the open air, I kill two birds with one +stone, as the saying is. My health benefits by my taking up the old +Romany wandering, and I gratify my nostalgia for the tent and the wild. +You understand, you und--" His speech was interrupted by a fresh fit of +coughing. + +"It doesn't seem to do you much good this gypsying," said Miss Greeby +with a swift look, for his life was of importance to her plans. "You +look pretty rocky I can tell you, Pine. And if you die your wife will be +free to--" The man sat up and took away from his mouth a handkerchief +spotted with blood. His eyes glittered, and he showed his white teeth. +"My wife will be free to what?" he demanded viciously, and the same +devil that had lurked in Mother Cockleshell's eye, now showed +conspicuously in his. + +Miss Greeby had no pity on his manifest distress and visible wrath, but +answered obliquely: "You know that she was almost engaged to her cousin +before you married her," she hinted pointedly. + +"Yes, I know, d---- him," said Pine with a groan, and rolled over to +clutch at the grass in a vicious manner. "But he's not at The Manor now?" + +"No." + +"Agnes doesn't speak of him?" + +"No." + +Pine drew a deep breath and rose slowly to his feet, with a satisfied +nod. + +"I'm glad of that. She's a good woman is Agnes, and would never +encourage him in any way. She knows what is due to me. I trust her." + +"Do you? When your secretary is also stopping at The Manor?" + +"Silver!" Pine laughed awkwardly, and kicked at a tuft of moss. "Well I +did ask him to keep an eye on her, although there is really no occasion. +Silver owes me a great deal, since I took him out of the gutter. If +Lambert worried my wife, Silver would let me know, and then--" + +"And then?" asked Miss Greeby hastily. + +The man clenched his fists and his face grew stormy, as his blood +untamed by civilization surged redly to the surface. "I'd twist his +neck, I'd smash his skull, I'd--I'd--I'd--oh, don't ask me what I'd do." + +"I should keep my temper if I were you," Miss Greeby warned him, and +alarmed by the tempest she had provoked. She had no wish for the man she +loved to come into contact with this savage, veneered by civilization. +Yet Lambert was in the neighborhood, and almost within a stone's throw +of the husband who was so jealous of him. "Keep your temper," repeated +Miss Greeby. + +"Is there anything else you would like me to do?" raged Pine fiercely. + +"Yes. Leave this place if you wish to keep the secret of your birth from +your wife. Lady Garvington and Mrs. Belgrove, and a lot of people from +The Manor, are coming to the camp to get their fortunes told. You are +sure to be spotted." + +"I shall keep myself out of sight," said Pine sullenly and suspiciously. + +"Some of your gypsy friends may let the cat out of the bag." + +"Not one of them knows there is a cat in the bag. I am Ishmael Hearne to +them, and nothing else. But I shan't stay here long." + +"I wonder you came at all, seeing that your wife is with her brother." + +"In the daring of my coming lies my safety," said Pine tartly. "I know +what I am doing. As to Lambert, if he thinks to marry my wife when I am +dead he is mistaken." + +"Well, I hope you won't die, for my sake!" + +"Why for your sake?" asked Pine sharply. + +"Because I love Lambert and I want to marry him." + +"Marry him," said the millionaire hoarsely, "and I'll give you thousands +of pounds. Oh! I forgot that you have a large income. But marry him, +marry him, Miss Greeby. I shall help you all I can." + +"I can do without assistance," said the woman coolly. "All I ask you to +do is to refrain from fighting with Lambert." + +"What?" Pine's face became lowering again. "Is he at The Manor? You +said--" + +"I know what I said. He is not at The Manor, but he is stopping in the +cottage a stone's throw from here." + +Pine breathed hard, and again had a spasm of coughing. "What's he doing?" + +"Painting pictures." + +"He has not been near The Manor?" + +"No. And what is more, he told me to-day that he did not intend to go +near the house. I don't think you need be afraid, Pine. Lambert is a man +of honor, and I hope to get him to be my husband." + +"He shall never be my wife's husband," said the millionaire between his +teeth and scowling heavily. "I know that I shan't live to anything like +three score and ten. Your infernal hot-house civilization has killed me. +But if Lambert thinks to marry my widow he shall do so in the face of +Garvington's opposition, and will find Agnes a pauper." + +"What do you mean exactly?" Miss Greeby flung away the stump of her +cigarette and rose to her feet. + +Pine wiped his brow and breathed heavily. "I mean that I have left Agnes +my money, only on condition that she does _not_ marry Lambert. She can +marry any one else she has a mind to. I except her cousin." + +"Because she loves him?" + +"Yes, and because he loves her, d--n him." + +"He doesn't," cried Miss Greeby, lying fluently, and heartily wishing +that her lie could be a truth. "He loves me, and I intend to marry him. +Now you can understand what I meant when I declared that I had honor +enough to keep your secret. Lambert is my honor." + +"Oh, then I believe in your honor," sneered Pine cynically. "It is a +selfish quality in this case, which can only be gratified by preserving +silence. If Agnes knew that I was a true Romany tramp, she might run +away with Lambert, and as you want him to be your husband, it is to your +interest to hold your tongue. Thank you for nothing, Miss Greeby." + +"I tell you Lambert loves me," cried the woman doggedly, trying to +persuade her heart that she spoke truly. "And whether you leave your +money to your wife, or to any one else, makes no manner of difference." + +"I think otherwise," he retorted. "And it is just as well to be on the +safe side. If my widow marries Lambert, she loses my millions, and they +go to--" He checked himself abruptly. "Never mind who gets them. It is a +person in whom you can take no manner of interest." + +Miss Greeby pushed the point of her bludgeon into the spongy ground, and +looked thoughtful. "If Lambert loves Agnes still, which I don't +believe," she observed, after a pause, "he would marry her even if she +hadn't a shilling. Your will excluding him as her second husband is +merely the twisting of a rope of sand, Pine." + +"You forget," said the man quickly, "that I declared also, he would have +to marry her in the face of Garvington's opposition." + +"In what way?" + +"Can't you guess? Garvington only allowed me to marry his sister because +I am a wealthy man. I absolutely bought my wife by helping him, and she +gave herself to me without love to save the family name from disgrace. +She is a good woman, is Agnes, and always places duty before +inclination. Marriage with her pauper cousin meant practically the +social extinction of the Lambert family, and nothing would have remained +but the title. Therefore she married me, and I felt mean at the time in +accepting the sacrifice. But I was so deeply in love with her that I did +so. I love her still, and I am mean enough still to be jealous of this +cousin. She shall never marry him, and I know that Garvington will +appeal to his sister's strong desire to save the family once more; so +that she may not be foolish enough to lose the money. And two millions, +more or less," ended Pine cynically, "is too large a sum to pay for a +second husband." + +"Does Agnes know these conditions?" + +"No. Nor do I intend that she should know. You hold your tongue." + +Miss Greeby pulled on her heavy gloves and nodded. "I told you that I +had some notion of honor. Will you let Lambert know that you are in this +neighborhood?" + +"No. There is no need. I am stopping here only for a time to see a +certain person. Silver will look after Agnes, and is coming to the camp +to report upon what he has observed." + +"Silver then knows that you are Ishmael Hearne?" + +"Yes. He knows all my secrets, and I can trust him thoroughly, since he +owes everything to me." + +Miss Greeby laughed scornfully. "That a man of your age and experience +should believe in gratitude. Well, it's no business of mine. You may be +certain that for my own purpose I shall hold my tongue and shall keep +Lambert from seeking your wife. Not that he loves her," she added +hastily, as Pine's brows again drew together. "But she loves him, and +may use her arts--" + +"Don't you dare to speak of arts in connection with my wife," broke in +the man roughly. "She is no coquette, and I trust her--" + +"So long as Silver looks after her," finished Miss Greeby +contemptuously. "What chivalrous confidence. Well, I must be going. Any +message to your--" + +"No! No! No!" broke in Pine once more. "She is not to know that I am +here, or anything about my true position and name. You promised, and you +will keep your promise. But there, I know that you will, as +self-interest will make you." + +"Ah, now you talk common sense. It is a pity you don't bring it to bear +in the case of Silver, whom you trust because you have benefited him. +Good-day, you very unsophisticated person. I shall see you again--" + +"In London as Hubert Pine," said the millionaire abruptly, and Miss +Greeby, with a good-humored shrug, marched away, swinging her stick and +whistling gayly. She was very well satisfied with the knowledge she had +obtained, as the chances were that it would prove useful should Lambert +still hanker after the unattainable woman. Miss Greeby had lulled Pine's +suspicions regarding the young man's love for Agnes, but she knew in her +heart that she had only done so by telling a pack of miserable lies. +Now, as she walked back to The Manor, she reflected that by using her +secret information dexterously, she might improve such falsehood into +tolerable truth. + +Pine flung himself down again when she departed, and coughed in his +usual violent manner. His throat and lungs ached, and his brow was wet +with perspiration. With his elbows on his knees and his face between his +hands, he sat miserably thinking over his troubles. There was no chance +of his living more than a few years, as the best doctors in Europe and +England had given him up, and when he was placed below ground, the +chances were that Agnes would marry his rival. He had made things as +safe as was possible against such a contingency, but who knew if her +love for Lambert might not make her willing to surrender the millions. +"Unless Garvington can manage to arouse her family pride," groaned Pine +drearily. "She sacrificed herself before for that, and perhaps she will +do so again. But who knows?" And he could find no answer to this +question, since it is impossible for any man to say what a woman will do +where her deepest emotions are concerned. + +A touch on Pine's shoulder made him leap to his feet with the alertness +of a wild animal on the lookout for danger. By his side stood Chaldea, +and her eyes glittered, as she came to the point of explanation without +any preamble. The girl was painfully direct. "I have heard every word," +she said triumphantly. "And I know what you are, brother." + +"Why did you come here?" demanded Pine sharply, and frowning. + +"I wanted to hear what a Romany had to do with a Gorgio lady, brother. +And what do I hear. Why, that you dwell in the Gentile houses, and take +a Gentile name, and cheat in a Gentile manner, and have wed with a +Gentile romi. Speaking Romanly, brother, it is not well." + +"It is as I choose, sister," replied Pine quietly, for since Chaldea had +got the better of him, it was useless to quarrel with her. "And from +what I do good will come to our people." + +Chaldea laughed, and blew from her fingers a feather, carelessly picked +up while in the thicket which had concealed her eavesdropping. "For +that, I care that," said she, pointing to the floating feather slowly +settling. "I looks to myself and to my love, brother." + +"Hey?" Pine raised his eyebrows. + +"It's a Gorgio my heart is set on," pursued Chaldea steadfastly. "A +regular Romany Rye, brother. Do you think Lambert is a good name?" + +"It's the name of the devil, sister," cried Pine hastily. + +"The very devil I love. To me sweet, as to you sour. And speaking +Romanly, brother, I want him to be my rom in the Gentile fashion, as you +have a romi in your Gorgious lady." + +"What will Kara say?" said Pine, and his eyes flashed, for the idea of +getting rid of Lambert in this way appealed to him. The girl was +beautiful, and with her added cleverness she might be able to gain her +ends, and these accomplished, would certainly place a barrier between +Agnes and her cousin, since the woman would never forgive the man for +preferring the girl. + +"Kara plays on the fiddle, but not on my heart-strings," said Chaldea in +a cool manner, and watched Pine wickedly. "You'd better help me, +brother, if you don't want that Gorgious romi of yours to pad the hoof +with the rye." + +The blood rushed to Pine's dark cheeks. "What's that?" + +"No harm to my rye and I tell you, brother. Don't use the knife." + +"That I will not do, if a wedding-ring from him to you will do as well." + +"It will do, brother," said Chaldea calmly. "My rye doesn't love me yet, +but he will, when I get him away from the Gentile lady's spells. They +draw him, brother, they draw him." + +"Where do they draw him to?" demanded Pine, his voice thick with +passion. + +"To the Gorgious house of the baro rai, the brother of your romi. Like +an owl does he go after dusk to watch the nest." + +"Owl," muttered Pine savagely. "Cuckoo, rather. Prove this, my sister, +and I help you to gain the love you desire." + +"It's a bargain, brother"--she held out her hand inquiringly--"but no +knife." + +Pine shook hands. "It's a bargain, sister. Your wedding-ring will part +them as surely as any knife. Tell me more!" And Chaldea in whispers told +him all. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE WOMAN AND THE MAN. + + +Quite unaware that Destiny, that tireless spinner, was weaving sinister +red threads of hate and love into the web of his life, Lambert continued +to live quietly in his woodland retreat. In a somewhat misanthropic +frame of mind he had retired to this hermitage, after the failure of his +love affair, since, lacking the society of Agnes, there was nothing left +for him to desire. From a garden of roses, the world became a sandy +desert, and denied the sole gift of fortune, which would have made him +completely happy, the disconsolate lover foreswore society for solitude. +As some seek religion, so Lambert hoped by seeking Nature's breast to +assuage the pains of his sore heart. But although the great Mother could +do so much, she could not do all, and the young man still felt restless +and weary. Hard work helped him more than a little, but he had his dark +hours during those intervals when hand and brain were too weary to +create pictures. + +In one way he blamed Agnes, because she had married for money; in +another way he did not blame her, because that same money had been +necessary to support the falling fortunes of the noble family to which +Lambert belonged. An ordinary person would not have understood this, and +would have seen in the mercenary marriage simply a greedy grasping after +the loaves and fishes. But Lambert, coming at the end of a long line of +lordly ancestors, considered that both he and his cousin owed something +to those of the past who had built up the family. Thus his pride told +him that Agnes had acted rightly in taking Pine as her husband, while +his love cried aloud that the sacrifice was too hard upon their +individual selves. He was a Lambert, but he was also a human being, and +the two emotions of love and pride strove mightily against one another. +Although quite three years had elapsed since the victim had been offered +at the altar--and a willing victim to the family fetish--the struggle +was still going on. And because of its stress and strain, Lambert +withdrew from society, so that he might see as little as possible of the +woman he loved. They had met, they had talked, they had looked, in a +conventionally light-hearted way, but both were relieved when +circumstances parted them. The strain was too great. + +Pine arranged the circumstances, for hearing here, there, and +everywhere, that his wife had been practically engaged to her cousin +before he became her husband, he looked with jealous eyes upon their +chance meetings. Neither to Agnes nor Lambert did he say a single word, +since he had no reason to utter it, so scrupulously correct was their +behavior, but his eyes were sufficiently eloquent to reveal his +jealousy. He took his wife for an American tour, and when he brought her +back to London, Lambert, knowing only too truly the reason for that +tour, had gone away in his turn to shoot big game in Africa. An attack +of malaria contracted in the Congo marshes had driven him back to +England, and it was then that he had begged Garvington to give him The +Abbot's Wood Cottage. For six months he had been shut up here, +occasionally going to London, or for a week's walking tour, and during +that time he had done his best to banish the image of Agnes from his +heart. Doubtless she was attempting the same conquest, for she never +even wrote to him. And now these two sorely-tried people were within +speaking distance of one another, and strange results might be looked +for unless honor held them sufficiently true. Seeing that the cottage +was near the family seat, and that Agnes sooner or later would arrive to +stay with her brother and sister-in-law, Lambert might have expected +that such a situation would come about in the natural course of things. +Perhaps he did, and perhaps--as some busybodies said--he took the +cottage for that purpose; but so far, he had refrained from seeking the +society of Pine's wife. He would not even dine at The Manor, nor would +he join the shooting-party, although Garvington, with a singular +blindness, urged him to do so. While daylight lasted, the artist painted +desperately hard, and after dark wandered round the lanes and roads and +across the fields, haunting almost unconsciously the Manor Park, if only +to see in moonlight and twilight the casket which held the rich jewel he +had lost. This was foolish, and Lambert acknowledged that it was +foolish, but at the same time he added inwardly that he was a man and +not an angel, a sinner and not a saint, so that there were limits, etc., +etc., etc., using impossible arguments to quieten a lively conscience +that did not approve of this dangerous philandering. + +The visit of Miss Greeby awoke him positively to a sense of danger, for +if she talked--and talk she did--other people would talk also. Lambert +asked himself if it would be better to visit The Manor and behave like +a man who has got over his passion, or to leave the cottage and betake +himself to London. While turning over this problem in his mind, he +painted feverishly, and for three days after Miss Greeby had come to +stir up muddy water, he remained as much as possible in his studio. +Chaldea visited him, as usual, to be painted, and brought Kara with his +green coat and beloved violin and hairy looks. The girl chatted, Kara +played, and Lambert painted, and all three pretended to be very happy +and careless. This was merely on the surface, however, for the artist +was desperately wretched, because the other half of himself was married +to another man, while Chaldea, getting neither love-look nor caress, +felt savagely discontented. As for Kara, he had long since loved +Chaldea, who treated him like a dog, and he could not help seeing that +she adored the Gentile artist--a knowledge which almost broke his heart. +But it was some satisfaction for him to note that Lambert would have +nothing to do with the siren, and that she could not charm him to her +feet, sang she ever so tenderly. It was an unhappy trio at the best. + +The gypsies usually came in the morning, since the light was then better +for artistic purposes, but they always departed at one o'clock, so that +Lambert had the afternoon to himself. Chaldea would fain have lingered +in order to charm the man she loved into subjection; but he never gave +her the least encouragement, so she was obliged to stay away. All the +same, she often haunted the woods near the cottage, and when Lambert +came out for a stroll, which he usually did when it became too dark to +paint, he was bound to run across her. Since he had not the slightest +desire to make love to her, and did not fathom the depth of her passion, +he never suspected that she purposely contrived the meetings which he +looked upon as accidental. + +Since Chaldea hung round the house, like a moth round a candle, she saw +every one who came and went from the woodland cottage. On the afternoon +of the third day since Pine's arrival at the camp in the character of +Ishmael Hearne, the gypsy saw Lady Agnes coming through the wood. +Chaldea knew her at once, having often seen her when she had come to +visit Mother Cockleshell a few months previously. With characteristic +cunning, the girl dived into the undergrowth, and there remained +concealed for the purpose of spying on the Gentile lady whom she +regarded as a rival. Immediately, Chaldea guessed that Lady Agnes was +on her way to the cottage, and, as Lambert was alone as usual for the +afternoon, the two would probably have a private conversation. The girl +swiftly determined to listen, so that she might learn exactly how +matters stood between them. It might be that she would discover +something which Pine--Chaldea now thought of him as Pine--might like to +know. So having arranged this in her own unscrupulous mind, the girl +behind a juniper bush jealously watched the unsuspecting lady. What she +saw did not please her overmuch, as Lady Agnes was rather too beautiful +for her unknown rival's peace of mind. + +Sir Hubert's wife was not really the exquisitely lovely creature Chaldea +took her to be, but her fair skin and brown hair were such a contrast to +the gypsy's swarthy face and raven locks, that she really looked like an +angel of light compared with the dark child of Nature. Agnes was tall +and slender, and moved with a great air of dignity and calm +self-possession, and this to the uncontrolled Chaldea was also a matter +of offence. She inwardly tried to belittle her rival by thinking what a +milk-and-water useless person she was, but the steady and resolute look +in the lady's brown eyes gave the lie to this mental assertion. Lady +Agnes had an air of breeding and command, which, with all her beauty, +Chaldea lacked, and as she passed along like a cold, stately goddess, +the gypsy rolled on the grass in an ecstasy of rage. She could never be +what her rival was, and what her rival was, as she suspected, formed +Lambert's ideal of womanhood. When she again peered through the bush, +Lady Agnes had disappeared. But there was no need for Chaldea to ask her +jealous heart where she had gone. With the stealth and cunning of a Red +Indian, the gypsy took up the trail, and saw the woman she followed +enter the cottage. For a single moment she had it in her mind to run to +the camp and bring Pine, but reflecting that in a moment of rage the man +might kill Lambert, Chaldea checked her first impulse, and bent all her +energies towards getting sufficiently near to listen to a conversation +which was not meant for her ears. + +Meanwhile, Agnes had been admitted by Mrs. Tribb, a dried-up little +woman with the rosy face of a winter apple, and a continual smile of +satisfaction with herself and with her limited world. This consisted of +the cottage, in the wood, and of the near villages, where she repaired +on occasions to buy food. Sometimes, indeed, she went to The Manor, for, +born and bred on the Garvington estates, Mrs. Tribb knew all the +servants at the big house. She had married a gamekeeper, who had died, +and unwilling to leave the country she knew best, had gladly accepted +the offer of Lord Garvington to look after the woodland cottage. In this +way Lambert became possessed of an exceedingly clean housekeeper, and a +wonderfully good cook. In fact so excellent a cook was Mrs. Tribb, that +Garvington had frequently suggested she should come to The Manor. But, +so far, Lambert had managed to keep the little woman to himself. Mrs. +Tribb adored him, since she had known him from babyhood, and declined to +leave him under any circumstances. She thought Lambert the best man in +the world, and challenged the universe to find another so handsome and +clever, and so considerate. + +"Dear me, my lady, is it yourself?" said Mrs. Tribb, throwing up her dry +little hands and dropping a dignified curtsey. "Well, I do call it good +of you to come and see Master Noel. He don't go out enough, and don't +take enough interest in his stomach, if your ladyship will pardon my +mentioning that part of him. But you don't know, my lady, what it is to +be a cook, and to see the dishes get cold, while he as should eat them +goes on painting, not but what Master Noel don't paint like an angel, as +I've said dozens of times." + +While Mrs. Tribb ran on in this manner her lively black eyes twinkled +anxiously. She knew that her master and Lady Agnes had been, as she said +herself, "next door to engaged," and knew also that Lambert was fretting +over the match which had been brought about for the glorification of the +family. The housekeeper, therefore, wondered why Lady Agnes had come, +and asked herself whether it would not be wise to say that Master +Noel--from old associations, she always called Lambert by this juvenile +title--was not at home. But she banished the thought as unworthy, the +moment it entered her active brain, and with another curtsey in response +to the visitor's greeting, she conducted her to the studio. "Them two +angels will never do no wrong, anyhow," was Mrs. Tribb's reflection, as +she closed the door and left the pair together. "But I do hope as that +black-faced husband won't ever learn. He's as jealous as Cain, and I +don't want Master Noel to be no Abel!" + +If Mrs. Tribb, instead of going to the kitchen, which she did, had gone +out of the front door, she would have found Chaldea lying full length +amongst the flowers under the large window of the studio. This was +slightly open, and the girl could hear every word that was spoken, while +so swiftly and cleverly had she gained her point of vantage, that those +within never for one moment suspected her presence. If they had, they +would assuredly have kept better guard over their tongues, for the +conversation was of the most private nature, and did not tend to soothe +the eavesdropper's jealousy. + +Lambert was so absorbed in his painting--he was working at the +Esmeralda-Quasimodo picture--that he scarcely heard the studio door +open, and it was only when Mrs. Tribb's shrill voice announced the name +of his visitor, that he woke to the surprising fact that the woman he +loved was within a few feet of him. The blood rushed to his face, and +then retired to leave him deadly pale, but Agnes was more composed, and +did not let her heart's tides mount to high-water mark. On seeing her +self-possession, the man became ashamed that he had lost his own, and +strove to conceal his momentary lapse into a natural emotion, by pushing +forward an arm-chair. + +"This is a surprise, Agnes," he said in a voice which he strove vainly +to render steady. "Won't you sit down?" + +"Thank you," and she took her seat like a queen on her throne, looking +fair and gracious as any white lily. What with her white dress, white +gloves and shoes, and straw hat tied under her chin with a broad white +ribbon in old Georgian fashion, she looked wonderfully cool, and pure, +and--as Lambert inwardly observed--holy. Her face was as faintly tinted +with color as is a tea-rose, and her calm, brown eyes, under her smooth +brown hair, added to the suggestive stillness of her looks. She seemed +in her placidity to be far removed from any earthly emotion, and +resembled a picture of the Madonna, serene, peaceful, and somewhat sad. +Yet who could tell what anguished feelings were masked by her womanly +pride? + +"I hope you do not find the weather too warm for walking," said Lambert, +reining in his emotions with an iron hand, and speaking conventionally. + +"Not at all. I enjoyed the walk. I am staying at The Manor." + +"So I understand." + +"And you are staying here?" + +"There can be no doubt on that point." + +"Do you think you are acting wisely?" she asked with great calmness. + +"I might put the same question to you, Agnes, seeing that you have come +to live within three miles of my hermitage." + +"It is because you are living in what you call your hermitage that I +have come," rejoined Agnes, with a slight color deepening her cheeks. +"Is it fair to me that you should shut yourself up and play the part of +the disappointed lover?" + +Lambert, who had been touching up his picture here and there, laid down +his palette and brushes with ostentatious care, and faced her doggedly. +"I don't understand what you mean," he declared. + +"Oh, I think you do; and in the hope that I may induce you, in justice +to me, to change your conduct, I have come over." + +"I don't think you should have come," he observed in a low voice, and +threw himself on the couch with averted eyes. + +Lady Agnes colored again. "You are talking nonsense," she said with some +sharpness. "There is no harm in my coming to see my cousin." + +"We were more than cousins once." + +"Exactly, and unfortunately people know that. But you needn't make +matters worse by so pointedly keeping away from me." + +Lambert looked up quickly. "Do you wish me to see you often?" he asked, +and there was a new note in his voice which irritated her. + +"Personally I don't, but--" + +"But what?" He rose and stood up, very tall and very straight, looking +down on her with a hungry look in his blue eyes. + +"People are talking," murmured the lady, and stared at the floor, +because she could not face that same look. + +"Let them talk. What does it matter?" + +"Nothing to you, perhaps, but to me a great deal. I have a husband." + +"As I know to my cost," he interpolated. + +"Then don't let me know it to _my_ cost," she said pointedly. "Sit down +and let us talk common sense." + +Lambert did not obey at once. "I am only a human being, Agnes--" + +"Quite so, and a man at that. Act like a man, then, and don't place the +burden on a woman's shoulders." + +"What burden?" + +"Oh, Noel, can't you understand?" + +"I daresay I can if you will explain. I wish you hadn't come here +to-day. I have enough to bear without that." + +"And have I nothing to bear?" she demanded, a flash of passion ruffling +her enforced calm. "Do you think that anything but the direst need +brought me here?" + +"I don't know what brought you here. I am waiting for an explanation." + +"What is the use of explaining what you already know?" + +"I know nothing," he repeated doggedly. "Explain." + +"Well," said Lady Agnes with some bitterness, "it seems to me that an +explanation is really necessary, as apparently I am talking to a child +instead of a man. Sit down and listen." + +This time Lambert obeyed, and laughed as he did so. "Your taunts don't +hurt me in the least," he observed. "I love you too much." + +"And I love in return. No! Don't rise again. I did not come here to +revive the embers of our dead passion." + +"Embers!" cried Lambert with bitter scorn. "Embers, indeed! And a dead +passion; how well you put it. So far as I am concerned, Agnes, the +passion is not dead and never will be." + +"I am aware of that, and so I have come to appeal to that passion. Love +means sacrifice. I want you to understand that." + +"I do, by experience. Did I not surrender you for the sake of the family +name? Understand! I should think I did understand." + +"I--think--not," said Lady Agnes slowly and gently. "It is necessary to +revive your recollections. We loved one another since we were boy and +girl, and we intended, as you know, to marry. There was no regular +engagement between us, but it was an understood family arrangement. My +father always approved of it; my brother did not." + +"No. Because he saw in you an article of sale out of which he hoped to +make money," sneered Lambert, nursing his ankle. + +Lady Agnes winced. "Don't make it too hard for me," she said +plaintively. "My life is uncomfortable enough as it is. Remember that +when my father died we were nearly ruined. Only by the greatest +cleverness did Garvington manage to keep interest on the mortgages paid +up, hoping that he would marry a rich wife--an American for choice--and +so could put things straight. But he married Jane, as you know--" + +"Because he is a glutton, and she knows all about cooking." + +"Well, gluttony may be as powerful a vice as drinking and gambling, and +all the rest of it. It is with Garvington, although I daresay that +seeing the position he was in, people would laugh to think he should +marry a poor woman, when he needed a rich wife. But at that time Hubert +wanted to marry me, and Garvington got his cook-wife, while I was +sacrificed." + +"Seeing that I loved you and you loved me, I wonder--" + +"Yes, I know you wondered, but you finally accepted my explanation that +I did it to save the family name." + +"I did, and, much as I hated your sacrifice, it was necessary." + +"More necessary than you think," said Lady Agnes, sinking her voice to +a whisper and glancing round, "In a moment of madness Garvington altered +a check which Hubert gave him, and was in danger of arrest. Hubert +declared that he would give up the check if I married him. I did so, to +save my brother and the family name." + +"Oh, Agnes!" Lambert jumped up. "I never knew this." + +"It was not necessary to tell you. I made the excuse of saving the +family name and property generally. You thought it was merely the +bankruptcy court, but I knew that it meant the criminal court. However, +I married Hubert, and he put the check in the fire in my presence and in +Garvington's. He has also fulfilled his share of the bargain which he +made when he bought me, and has paid off a great many of the mortgages. +However, Garvington became too outrageous in his demands, and lately +Hubert has refused to help him any more. I don't blame him; he has paid +enough for me." + +"You are worth it," said Lambert emphatically. + +"Well, you may think so, and perhaps he does also. But does it not +strike you, Noel, what a poor figure I and Garvington, and the whole +family, yourself included, cut in the eyes of the world? We were poor, +and I was sold to get money to save the land." + +"Yes, but this changing of the check also--" + +"The world doesn't know of that," said Agnes hurriedly. "Hubert has been +very loyal to me. I must be loyal to him." + +"You are. Who dares to say that you are not?" + +"No one--as yet," she replied pointedly. + +"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, flushing through his fair skin. + +"I mean that if you met me in the ordinary way, and behaved to me as an +ordinary man, people would not talk. But you shun my society, and even +when I am at The Manor, you do not come near because of my presence." + +"It is so hard to be near you and yet, owing to your marriage, so far +from you," muttered the man savagely. + +"If it is hard for you, think how hard it must be for me," said the +woman vehemently, her passion coming to the surface. "People talk of the +way in which you avoid me, and hint that we love one another still." + +"It is true! Agnes, you know it is true!" + +"Need the whole world know that it is true?" cried Agnes, rising, with +a gust of anger passing over her face. "If you would only come to The +Manor, and meet me in London, and accept Hubert's invitations to dinner, +people would think that our attachment was only a boy and girl +engagement, that we had outgrown. They would even give me credit for +loving Hubert--" + +"But you don't?" cried Lambert with a jealous pang. + +"Yes, I do. He is my chosen husband, and has carried out his part of the +bargain by freeing many of Garvington's estates. Surely the man ought to +have something for his money. I don't love him as a wife should love her +husband, not with heart-whole devotion, that is. But I give him loyalty, +and I respect him, and I try to make him happy in every way. I do my +part, Noel, as you do yours. Since I have been compelled to sacrifice +love for money, at least let us be true to the sacrifice." + +"You didn't sacrifice yourself wholly for money." + +"No, I did not. It was because of Garvington's crime. But no one knows +of that, and no one ever shall know. In fact, so happy am I and +Hubert--" + +"Happy?" said Lambert wincing. + +"Yes," she declared firmly. "He thinks so, and whatever unhappiness I +may feel, I conceal from him. But you must come to The Manor, and meet +me here, there, and everywhere, so that people shall not say, as they +are doing, that you are dying of love, and that, because I am a greedy +fortune-hunter, I ruined your life." + +"They do not dare. I have not heard any--" + +"What can you hear in this jungle?" interrupted Lady Agnes with scorn. +"You stop your ears with cotton wool, but I am in the world, hearing +everything. And the more unpleasant the thing is, the more readily do +I hear it. You can end this trouble by coming out of your lovesick +retirement, and by showing that you no longer care for me." + +"That would be acting a lie." + +"And do I not act a lie?" she cried fiercely. "Is not my whole marriage +a lie? I despise myself for my weakness in yielding, and yet, God help +me, what else could I do when Garvington's fair fame was in question? +Think of the disgrace, had he been prosecuted by Hubert. And Hubert +knows that you and I loved; that I could not give him the love he +desired. He was content to accept me on those terms. I don't say he was +right; but am I right, are you right, is Garvington right? Is any one of +us right? Not one, not one. The whole thing is horrible, but I make the +best of it, since I did what I did do, openly and for a serious purpose +of which the world knows nothing. Do your part, Noel, and come to The +Manor, if only to show that you no longer care for me. You +understand"--she clasped her hands in agony. "You surely understand." + +"Yes," said Lambert in a low voice, and suddenly looked years older. "I +understand at last, Agnes. You shall no longer bear the burden alone. I +shall be a loyal friend to you, my dear," and he took her hand. + +"Will you be a loyal friend to my husband?" she asked, withdrawing it. + +"Yes," said Lambert, and he bit his lip. "God helping me, I will." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE MAN AND THE WOMAN. + + + +The interview between Lady Agnes and Lambert could scarcely be called a +love-scene, since it was dominated by a stern sense of duty. Chaldea, +lying at length amongst the crushed and fragrant flowers, herself in her +parti-colored attire scarcely distinguishable from the rainbow blossoms, +was puzzled by the way in which the two reined in their obvious +passions. To her simple, barbaric nature, the situation appeared +impossible. If he loved her and she loved him, why did they not run away +to enjoy life together? The husband who had paid money for the wife did +not count, nor did the brother, who had sold his sister to hide his +criminal folly. That Lady Agnes should have traded herself to save +Garvington from a well-deserved punishment, seemed inexcusable to the +gypsy. If he had been the man she loved, then indeed might she have +acted rightly. But having thrown over that very man in this silly +fashion, for the sake of what did not appear to be worth the sacrifice, +Chaldea felt that Agnes did not deserve Lambert, and she then and there +determined that the Gentile lady should never possess him. + +Of course, on the face of it, there was no question of possession. The +man being weaker than the woman would have been only too glad to elope, +and thus cut the Gordian knot of the unhappy situation. But the woman, +having acted from a high sense of duty, which Chaldea could not rise to, +evidently was determined to continue to be a martyr. The question was, +could she keep up that pose in the face of the undeniable fact that she +loved her cousin? The listening girl thought not. Sooner or later the +artificial barrier would be broken through by the held-back flood of +passion, and then Lady Agnes would run away from the man who had bought +her. And quite right, too, thought Chaldea, although she had no notion +of permitting such an elopement to take place. That Agnes would hold to +her bargain all her life, because Hubert had fulfilled his part, never +occurred to the girl. She was not civilized enough to understand this +problem of a highly refined nature. + +Since the situation was so difficult, Lambert was glad to see the back +of his cousin. He escorted her to the door, but did not attend her +through the wood. In fact, they parted rather abruptly, which was wise. +All had been said that could be said, and Lambert had given his promise +to share the burden with Agnes by acting the part of a lover who had +never really been serious. But it did not do to discuss details, as +these were too painful, so the woman hurried away without a backward +glance, and Lambert, holding his heart between his teeth, returned to +the studio. Neither one of the two noticed Chaldea crouching amongst the +flowers. Had they been less pre-occupied, they might have done so; as it +was she escaped observation. + +As soon as the coast was clear, Chaldea stole like a snake along the +ground, through the high herbage of the garden, and beyond the circle of +the mysterious monoliths. Even across the lawns of the glade did she +crawl, so as not to be seen, although she need not have taken all this +trouble, since Lambert, with a set face and a trembling hand, was +working furiously at a minor picture he utilized to get rid of such +moods. But the gypsy did not know this, and so writhed into the woods +like the snake of Eden--and of that same she was a very fair +sample--until, hidden by the boles of ancient trees, she could stand +upright. When she did so, she drew a long breath, and wondered what was +best to be done. + +The most obvious course was to seek Ishmael and make a lying report of +the conversation. That his wife should have been with Lambert would be +quite enough to awaken the civilized gypsy's jealousy, for after all his +civilization was but skin deep. Still, if she did this, Chaldea was +clever enough to see that she would precipitate a catastrophe, and +either throw Agnes into Lambert's arms, or make the man run the risk of +getting Pine's knife tickling his fifth rib. Either result did not +appeal to her. She wished to get Lambert to herself, and his safety was +of vital importance to her. After some consideration, she determined +that she would boldly face the lover, and confess that she had overheard +everything. Then she would have him in her power, since to save the +wife from the vengeance of the husband, although there was no reason for +such vengeance, he would do anything to keep the matter of the visit +quiet. Of course the interview had been innocent, and Chaldea knew that +such was the case. Nevertheless, by a little dexterous lying, and some +vivid word-painting, she could make things extremely unpleasant for the +couple. This being so, Lambert would have to subscribe to her terms. And +these were, that he should leave Agnes and marry her. That there was +such a difference in their rank mattered nothing to the girl. Love +levelled all ranks, in her opinion. + +But while arranging what she should do, if Lambert proved obstinate, +Chaldea also arranged to fascinate him, if possible, into loving her. +She did not wish to use her power of knowledge until her power of +fascination failed. And this for two reasons. In the first place, it was +not her desire to drive the man into a corner lest he should defy her +and fight, which would mean--to her limited comprehension--that +everything being known to Pine, the couple would confess all and elope. +In the second place, Chaldea was piqued to think that Lambert should +prove to be so indifferent to her undeniable beauty, as to love this +pale shadow of a Gentile lady. She would make certain, she told herself, +if he really preferred the lily to the full-blown rose, and on his +choice depended her next step. Gliding back to the camp, she decided to +attend to one thing at a time, and the immediate necessity was to charm +the man into submission. For this reason Chaldea sought out the Servian +gypsy, who was her slave. + +Her slave Kara certainly was, but not her rom. If he had been her +husband she would not have dared to propose to him what she did propose. +He was amiable enough as a slave, because he had no hold over her, but +if she married him according to the gypsy law, he would then be her +master, and should she indulge her fancy for a Gentile, he would +assuredly use a very nasty-looking knife, which he wore under the green +coat. Even as it was, Kara would not be pleased to fiddle to her +dancing, since he already was jealous of Lambert. But Chaldea knew how +to manage this part of the business, risky though it was. The hairy +little ape with the musician's soul had no claim on her, unless she +chose to give him that of a husband. Then, indeed, things would be +different, but the time had not come for marital slavery. + +The schemer found Kara at the hour of sunset sitting at the door of the +tent he occupied, drawing sweet tones from his violin. This was the +little man's way of conversing, for he rarely talked to human beings. He +spoke to the fiddle and the fiddle spoke to him, probably about Chaldea, +since the girl was almost incessantly in his thoughts. She occupied them +now, and when he raised his shaggy head at the touch on his hump-back, +he murmured with joy at the sight of her flushed beauty. Had he known +that the flush came from jealousy of a rival, Kara might not have been +so pleased. The two conversed in Romany, since the Servian did not speak +English. + +"Brother?" questioned Chaldea, standing in the glory of the rosy sunset +which slanted through the trees. "What of Ishmael?" + +"He is with Gentilla in her tent, sister. Do you wish to see him?" + +Chaldea shook her proud head. "What have I to do with the half Romany? +Truly, brother, his heart is Gentile, though his skin be of Egypt." + +"Why should that be, sister, when his name signifies that he is of the +gentle breed?" asked Kara, laying down his violin. + +"Gentile but not gentle," said Chaldea punning, then checked herself +lest she should say too much. She had sworn to keep Pine's secret, and +intended to do so, until she could make capital out of it. At present +she could not, so behaved honorably. "But he's Romany enough to split +words with the old witch by the hour, so let him stay where he is. +Brother, would you make money?" Kara nodded and looked up with diamond +eyes, which glittered and gloated on the beauty of her dark face. "Then, +brother," continued the girl, "the Gorgio who paints gives me gold to +dance for him." + +The Servian's face--what could be seen of it for hair--grew sombre, and +he spat excessively. "Curses on the Gentile!" he growled low in his +throat. + +"On him, but not on the money, brother," coaxed the girl, stooping to +pat his face. "It's fine work, cheating the rye. But jealous you must +not be, if the gold is to chink in our pockets." + +Kara still frowned. "Were you my romi, sister--" + +"Aye, if I were. Then indeed. But your romi I am not yet." + +"Some day you will be. It would be a good fortune, sister. I am as ugly +as you are lovely, and we two together, you dancing to my playing, would +make pockets of red gold. White shows best when placed on black." + +"What a mine of wisdom you are," jeered Chaldea, nodding. "Yes. It is +so, and my rom you may be, if you obey." + +"But if you let the Gorgio make love to you--" + +"Hey! Am I not a free Roman, brother? You have not yet caught the bird. +It still sings on the bough. If I kiss him I suck gold from his lips. If +I put fond arms around his neck I but gather wealth for us both. Can you +snare a mouse without cheese, brother?" + +Kara looked at her steadily, and then lifted his green coat to show +the gleam of a butcher knife. "Should you go too far," he said +significantly; and touched the blade. + +Chaldea bent swiftly, and snatching the weapon from his belt, flung it +into the coarse grass under the trees. "So I fling you away," said she, +and stamped with rage. "Truly, brother, speaking Romanly, you are a fool +of fools, and take cheating for honesty. I lure the Gorgio at my will, +and says you whimpering-like, 'She's my romi,' the which is a lie. Bless +your wisdom for a hairy toad, and good-bye, for I go to my own people +near Lundra, and never will he who doubted my honesty see me more." + +She turned away, and Kara limped after her to implore forgiveness. He +assured her that he trusted her fully, and that whatever tricks she +played the Gentile would not be taken seriously by himself. "Poison him +I would," grumbled the little gnome in his beard. "For his golden talk +makes you smile sweetly upon him. But for the gold--" + +"Yes, for the gold we must play the fox. Well, brother, now that you +talk so, wait until the moon is up, then hide in the woods round the +cottage dell with your violin to your chin. I lure the rabbit from its +hole, and then you play the dance that delights the Gorgios. But what I +do, with kisses or arm-loving, my brother," she added shaking her +finger, "is but the play of the wind to shake the leaves. Believe me +honest and my rom you shall be--some day!" and she went away laughing, +to eat and drink, for the long watching had tired her. As for Kara he +crawled again into the underwood to search for his knife. Apparently he +did not trust Chaldea as much as she wanted him to. + +Thus it came about that when the moon rolled through a starry sky like a +golden wheel, Lambert, sighing at his studio window, saw a slim and +graceful figure glide into the clear space of lawn beyond the monoliths. +So searching was the thin moonlight that he recognized Chaldea at once, +as she wandered here and there restless as a butterfly, and apparently +as aimless. But, had he known it, she had her eyes on the cottage all +the time, and had he failed to come forth she would have come to inquire +if he was at home. But the artist did come forth, thinking to wile away +an hour with the fascinating gypsy girl. Always dressing for dinner, +even in solitude, for the habit of years was too strong to lay +aside--and, moreover, he was fastidious in his dress to preserve his +self-respect--he appeared at the door looking slender and well-set up in +his dark clothes. Although it was August the night was warm, and Lambert +did not trouble to put on cap or overcoat. With his hands in his pockets +and a cigar between his lips he strolled over to the girl, where she +swayed and swung in the fairy light. + +"Hullo, Chaldea," he said leisurely, and leaning against one of the +moss-grown monoliths, "what are you doing here?" + +"The rye," exclaimed Chaldea, with a well-feigned start of surprise. +"Avali the rye. Sarishan, my Gorgious gentleman, you, too, are a +nightbird. Have you come out mousing like an owl? Ha! ha! and you hear +the nightingale singing, speaking in the Gentile manner," and clapping +her hands she lifted up a full rich voice. + +"Dyal o pani repedishis, +M'ro pirano hegedishis." + +"What does that mean, Chaldea?" + +"It is an Hungarian song, and means that while the stream flows I hear +the violin of my love. Kara taught me the ditty." + +"And Kara is your love?" + +"No. Oh, no; oh, no," sang Chaldea, whirling round and round in quite a +magical manner. "No rom have I, but a mateless bird I wander. Still I +hear the violin of my true love, my new love, who knows my droms, and +that means my habits, rye," she ended, suddenly speaking in a natural +manner. + +"I don't hear the violin, however," said Lambert lazily, and thinking +what a picturesque girl she was in her many-hued rag-tag garments, and +with the golden coins glittering in her black hair. + +"You will, rye, you will," she said confidentially. "Come, my darling +gentleman, cross my hand with silver and I dance. I swear it. No hokkeny +baro will you behold when the wind pipes for me." + +"Hokkeny baro." + +"A great swindle, my wise sir. Hai, what a pity you cannot patter the +gentle Romany tongue. Kek! Kek! What does it matter, when you speak +Gentile gibberish like an angel. Sit, rye, and I dance for you." + +"Quite like Carmen and Don José in the opera," murmured Lambert, sliding +down to the foot of the rude stone. + +"What of her and of him? Were they Romans?" + +"Carmen was and José wasn't. She danced herself into his heart." + +Chaldea's eyes flashed, and she made a hasty sign to attract the happy +omen of his saying to herself. "Kushto bak," cried Chaldea, using the +gypsy for good luck. "And to me, to me," she clapped her hand. "Hark, my +golden rye, and watch me dance your love into my life." + +The wind was rising and sighed through the wood, shaking myriad leaves +from the trees. Blending with its faint cry came a long, sweet, +sustained note of music. Lambert started, so weird and unexpected was +the sound. "Kara, isn't it?" he asked, looking inquiringly at Chaldea. + +"He talks to the night--he speaks with the wind. Oh-ah-ah-ah. +Ah-oha-oha-oha-ho," sang the gypsy, clapping her hands softly, then, +as the music came breathing from the hidden violin in dreamy sensuous +tones, she raised her bare arms and began to dance. The place, the +dancer, the hour, the mysterious music, and the pale enchantments of +the moon--it was like fairyland. + +Lambert soon let his cigar go out, so absorbed did he become in watching +the dance. It was a wonderful performance, sensuous and weirdly unusual. +He had never seen a dance exactly like it before. The violin notes +sounded like actual words, and the dancer answered them with responsive +movements of her limbs, so that without speech the onlooker saw a +love-drama enacted before his eyes. Chaldea--so he interpreted the +dance--swayed gracefully from the hips, without moving her feet, in the +style of a Nautch girl. She was waiting for some one, since to right and +left she swung with a delicate hand curved behind her ear. Suddenly she +started, as if she heard an approaching footstep, and in maidenly +confusion glided to a distance, where she stood with her hands across +her bosom, the very picture of a surprised nymph. Mentally, the dance +translated itself to Lambert somewhat after this fashion: + +"She waits for her lover. That little run forward means that she sees +him coming. She falls at his feet; she kisses them. He raises her--I +suppose that panther spring from the ground means that he raises her. +She caresses him with much fondling and many kisses. By Jove, what +pantomime! Now she dances to please him. She stops and trembles; the +dance does not satisfy. She tries another. No! No! Not that! It is too +dreamy--the lover is in a martial mood. This time she strikes his fancy. +Kara is playing a wild Hungarian polonaise. Wonderful! Wonderful!" + +He might well say so, and he struggled to his feet, leaning against the +pillar of stone to see the dancer better. From the wood came the fierce +and stirring Slav music, and Chaldea's whole expressive body answered to +every note as a needle does to a magnet. She leaped, clicking her heels +together, advanced, as if on the foe, with a bound--was flung back--so +it seemed--and again sprang to the assault. She stiffened to stubborn +resistance--she unexpectedly became pliant and yielding and graceful, +and voluptuous, while the music took on the dreamy tones of love. And +Lambert translated the change after his own idea: + +"The music does not please the dancer--it is too martial. She fears lest +her lover should rush off to the wars, and seeks to detain him by the +dance of Venus. But he will go. He rises; he speeds away; she breaks off +the dance. Ah! what a cry of despair the violin gave just now. She +follows, stretching out her empty arms. But it is useless--he is gone. +Bah! She snaps her fingers. What does she care! She will dance to please +herself, and to show that her heart is yet whole. What a Bacchanalian +strain. She whirls and springs and swoops and leaps. She comes near to +me, whirling like a Dervish; she recedes, and then comes spinning round +again, like a mad creature. And then--oh, hang it! What do you mean? +Chaldea, what are you doing?" + +Lambert had some excuse for suddenly bursting into speech, when he cried +out vigorously: "Oh, hang it!" for Chaldea whirled right up to him and +had laid her arms round his neck, and her lips against his cheek. The +music stopped abruptly, with a kind of angry snarl, as if Kara, furious +at the sight, had put his wrath into the last broken note. Then all was +silent, and the artist found himself imprisoned in the arms of the +woman, which were locked round his neck. With an oath he unlinked her +fingers and flung her away from him fiercely. + +"You fool--you utter fool!" cried Lambert, striving to calm down the +beating of his heart, and restrain the racing of his blood, for he was +a man, and the sudden action of the gypsy had nearly swept away his +self-restraint. + +"I love you--I love you," panted Chaldea from the grass, where he had +thrown her. "Oh, my beautiful one, I love you." + +"You are crazy," retorted Lambert, quivering with many emotions to which +he could scarcely put a name, so shaken was he by the experience. "What +the devil do you mean by behaving in this way?" and his voice rose in +such a gust of anger that Kara, hidden in the wood, rejoiced. He could +not understand what was being said, but the tone of the voice was enough +for him. He did not know whether Chaldea was cheating the Gentile, or +cheating him; but he gathered that in either case, she had been +repulsed. The girl knew that also, when her ardent eyes swept across +Lambert's white face, and she burst into tears of anger and +disappointment. + +"Oh, rye, I give you all, and you take nothing," she wailed tearfully. + +"I don't want anything. You silly girl, do you think that for one moment +I was ever in love with you?" + +"I--I--want you--to--to--love me," sobbed Chaldea, grovelling on the +grass. + +"Then you want an impossibility," and to Lambert's mind's eye there +appeared the vision of a calm and beautiful face, far removed in its +pure looks from the flushed beauty of the fiery gypsy. To gain control +of himself, he took out a cigar and lighted it. But his hand trembled. +"You little fool," he muttered, and sauntered, purposely, slowly toward +the cottage. + +Chaldea gathered herself up with the spring of a tigress, and in a +moment was at his elbow with her face black with rage. Her tears had +vanished and with them went her softer mood. "You--you reject me," she +said in grating tones, and shaking from head to foot as she gripped his +shoulder. + +"Take away your hand," commanded Lambert sharply, and when she recoiled +a pace he faced her squarely. "You must have been drinking," he +declared, hoping to insult her into common sense. "What would Kara say +if--" + +"I don't want Kara. I want you," interrupted Chaldea, her breast +heaving, and looking sullenly wrathful. + +"Then you can't have me. Why should you think of me in this silly way? +We were very good friends, and now you have spoiled everything. I can +never have you to sit for me again." + +Chaldea's lip drooped. "Never again? Never again?" + +"No. It is impossible, since you have chosen to act in this way. Come, +you silly girl, be sensible, and--" + +"Silly girl! Oh, yes, silly girl," flashed out Chaldea. "And what is +she?" + +"She?" Lambert stiffened himself. "What do you mean?" + +"I mean the Gentile lady. I was under the window this afternoon. I heard +all you were talking about." + +The man stepped back a pace and clenched his hands. "You--listened?" he +asked slowly, and with a very white face. + +Chaldea nodded with a triumphant smile. + +"Avali! And why not? You have no right to love another man's romi." + +"I do not love her," began Lambert, and then checked himself, as he +really could not discuss so delicate a matter with this wildcat. "Why +did you listen, may I ask?" he demanded, passing his tongue over his dry +lips. + +"Because I love you, and love is jealous." + +Lambert restrained himself by a violent effort from shaking her. "You +are talking nonsense," he declared with enforced calmness. "And it is +ridiculous for you to love a man who does not care in the least for +you." + +"It will come--I can wait," insisted Chaldea sullenly. + +"If you wait until Doomsday it will make no difference. I don't love +you, and I have never given you any reason to think so." + +"Chee-chee!" bantered the girl. "Is that because I am not a raclan?" + +"A raclan?" + +"A married Gentile lady, that is. You love her?" + +"I--I--see, here, Chaldea, I am not going to talk over such things with +you, as my affairs are not your business." + +"They are the business of the Gorgious female's rom." + +"Rom? Her husband, you mean. What do you know of--" + +"I know that the Gentle Pine is really one of us," interrupted the girl +quickly. "Ishmael Hearne is his name." + +"Sir Hubert Pine?" + +"Ishmael Hearne," insisted Chaldea pertly. "He comes to the fire of the +Gentle Romany when he wearies of your Gorgious flesh-pots." + +"Pine a gypsy," muttered Lambert, and the memory of that dark, lean, +Eastern face impressed him with the belief that what the girl said was +true. + +"Avali. A true son of the road. He is here." + +"Here?" Lambert started violently. "What do you mean?" + +"I say what I mean, rye. He you call Pine is in our camp enjoying the +old life. Shall I bring him to you?" she inquired demurely. + +In a flash Lambert saw his danger, and the danger of Agnes, seeing that +the millionaire was as jealous as Othello. However, it seemed to him +that honesty was the best policy at the moment. "I shall see him myself +later," he declared after a pause. "If you listened, you must know that +there is no reason why I should not see him. His wife is my cousin, and +paid me a friendly visit--that is all." + +"Yes; that is all," mocked the girl contemptuously. "But if I tell +him--" + +"Tell him what?" + +"That you love his romi!" + +"He knows that," said Lambert quietly. "And knows also that I am an +honorable man. See here, Chaldea, you are dangerous, because this silly +love of yours has warped your common sense. You can make a lot of +mischief if you so choose, I know well." + +"And I _shall_ choose, my golden rye, if you love me not." + +"Then set about it at once," said Lambert boldly. "It is best to be +honest, my girl. I have done nothing wrong, and I don't intend to do +anything wrong, so you can say what you like. To-night I shall go to +London, and if Pine, or Hearne, or whatever you call him, wants me, he +knows my town address." + +"You defy me?" panted Chaldea, her breast rising and falling quickly. + +"Yes; truth must prevail in the end. I make no bargain with a spy," and +he gave her a contemptuous look, as he strode into the cottage and shut +the door with an emphatic bang. + +"Hai!" muttered the gypsy between her teeth. "Hatch till the dood wells +apré," which means: "Wait until the moon rises!" an ominous saying for +Lambert. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE SECRETARY. + + +"Was ever a man in so uncomfortable a position?" + +Lambert asked himself this question as soon as he was safe in his +studio, and he found it a difficult one to answer. It was true that what +he had said to Agnes, and what Agnes had said to him, was perfectly +honest and extremely honorable, considering the state of their feelings. +But the conversation had been overheard by an unscrupulous woman, whose +jealousy would probably twist innocence into guilt. It was certain that +she would go to Pine and give him a garbled version of what had taken +place, in which case the danger was great, both to himself and to Agnes. +Lambert had spoken bravely enough to the marplot, knowing that he had +done no wrong, but now he was by no means sure that he had acted +rightly. Perhaps it would have been better to temporize but that would +have meant a surrender young to Chaldea's unmaidenly wooing. And, as the +man had not a spark of love for her in a heart given entirely to another +woman, he was unwilling even to feign playing the part of a lover. + +On reflection he still held to his resolution to go to London, thinking +that it would be best for him to be out of reach of Agnes while Pine was +in the neighborhood. The news that the millionaire was a gypsy had +astonished him at first; but now that he considered the man's dark +coloring and un-English looks, he quite believed that what Chaldea said +was true. And he could understand also that Pine--or Hearne, since that +was his true name--would occasionally wish to breathe the free air of +heath and road since he had been cradled under a tent, and must at times +feel strongly the longing for the old lawless life. But why should he +revert to his beginnings so near to his brother-in-law's house, where +his wife was staying? "Unless he came to keep an eye on her," murmured +Lambert, and unconsciously hit on the very reason of the pseudo-gypsy's +presence at Garvington. + +After all, it would be best to go to London for a time to wait until +he saw what Chaldea would do. Then he could meet Pine and have an +understanding with him. The very fact that Pine was a Romany, and was on +his native heath, appealed to Lambert as a reason why he should not seek +out the man immediately, as he almost felt inclined to do, in order to +forestall Chaldea's story. As Hearne, the millionaire's wild instincts +would be uppermost, and he would probably not listen to reason, whereas +if the meeting took place in London, Pine would resume to a certain +extent his veneer of civilization and would be more willing to do +justice. + +"Yes," decided Lambert, rising and stretching himself. "I shall go to +London and wait to turn over matters in my own mind. I shall say nothing +to Agnes until I know what is best to be done about Chaldea. Meanwhile, +I shall see the girl and get her to hold her tongue for a time--Damn!" +He frowned. "It's making the best of a dangerous situation, but I don't +see my way to a proper adjustment yet. The most necessary thing is to +gain time." + +With this in his mind he hastily packed a gladstone bag, changed into +tweeds, and told Mrs. Tribb that he was going to London for a day or so. +"I shall get a trap at the inn and drive to the station," he said, as he +halted at the door. "You will receive a wire saying when I shall +return," and leaving the dry little woman, open-mouthed at this sudden +departure, the young man hastened away. + +Instead of going straight to the village, he took a roundabout road to +the camp on the verge of Abbot's Wood. Here he found the vagrants in a +state of great excitement, as Lord Garvington had that afternoon sent +notice by a gamekeeper that they were to leave his land the next day. +Taken up with his own private troubles, Lambert did not pay much +attention to those of the tribe, and looked about for Chaldea. He +finally saw her sitting by one of the fires, in a dejected attitude, +and touched her on the shoulder. At once, like a disturbed animal, she +leaped to her feet. + +"The rye!" said Chaldea, with a gasp, and a hopeful look on her face. + +"Give me three days before you say anything to Pine," said Lambert in a +low voice, and a furtive look round. "You understand." + +"No," said the girl boldly. "Unless you mean--" + +"Never mind what I mean," interrupted the man hastily, for he was +determined not to commit himself. "Will you hold your tongue for three +days?" + +Chaldea looked hard at his face, upon which the red firelight played +brightly, but could not read what was in his mind. However, she thought +that the request showed a sign of yielding, and was a mute confession +that he knew he was in her power. "I give you three days," she murmured. +"But--" + +"I have your promise then, so good-bye," interrupted Lambert abruptly, +and walked away hastily in the direction of Garvington village. His mind +was more or less of a chaos, but at all events he had gained time to +reduce the chaos to some sort of order. Still as yet he could not see +the outcome of the situation and departed swiftly in order to think it +over. + +Chaldea made a step or two, as if to follow, but a reflection that she +could do no good by talking at the moment, and a certainty that she held +him in the hollow of her hand, made her pause. With a hitch of her +shapely shoulders she resumed her seat by the fire, brooding sombrely on +the way in which this Gentile had rejected her love. Bending her black +brows and showing her white teeth like an irritated dog, she inwardly +cursed herself for cherishing so foolish a love. Nevertheless, she did +not try to overcome it, but resolved to force the Gorgio to her feet. +Then she could spurn him if she had a mind to, as he had spurned her. +But she well knew, and confessed it to herself with a sigh, that there +would be no spurning on her part, since her wayward love was stronger +than her pride. + +"Did the Gentile bring the gold, my sister?" asked a harsh voice, and +she raised her head to see Kara's hairy face bent to her ear. + +"No, brother. He goes to Lundra to get the gold. Did I not play my fish +in fine style?" + +"I took it for truth, sister!" said Kara, looking at her searchingly. + +Chaldea nodded wearily. "I am a great witch, as you can see." + +"You will be my romi when the gold chinks in our pockets?" + +"Yes, for certain, brother. It's a true fortune!" + +"Before our camp is changed, sister?" persisted the man greedily. + +"No; for to-morrow we may take the road, since the great lord orders us +off his land. And yet--" Chaldea stood up, suddenly recollecting what +had been said by Pine's wife. "Why should we leave?" + +"The rabbit can't kick dust in the fox's face, sister," said Kara, +meaning that Garvington was too strong for the gypsies. + +"There are rabbits and rabbits," said Chaldea sententiously. "Where is +Hearne, brother?" + +"In Gentilla's tent with a Gorgious gentleman. He's trading a horse with +the swell rye, and wants no meddling with his time, sister." + +"I meddle now," snapped Chaldea, and walked away in her usual free and +graceful manner. Kara shrugged his shoulders and then took refuge in +talking to his violin, to which he related his doubts of the girl's +truth. And he smiled grimly, as he thought of the recovered knife which +was again snugly hidden under his weather-worn green coat. + +Chaldea, who did not stand on ceremony, walked to the end of the camp +without paying any attention to the excited gypsies, and flung back the +flap of the old woman's tent. Mother Cockleshell was not within, as she +had given the use of her abode to Pine and his visitor. This latter was +a small, neat man with a smooth, boyish face and reddish hair. He had +the innocent expression of a fox-terrier, and rather resembled one. He +was neatly and inoffensively dressed in blue serge, and although he did +not look exactly like a gentleman, he would have passed for one in a +crowd. When Chaldea made her abrupt entrance he was talking volubly to +Pine, and the millionaire addressed him--when he answered--as Silver. +Chaldea, remembering the conversation she had overheard between Pine and +Miss Greeby, speedily reached the conclusion that the neat little man +was the secretary referred to therein. Probably he had come to report +about Lady Agnes. + +"What is it, sister?" demanded Pine sharply, and making a sign that +Silver should stop talking. + +"Does the camp travel to-morrow, brother?" + +"Perhaps, yes," retorted Pine abruptly. + +"And perhaps no, brother, if you use your power." + +Silver raised his faint eyebrows and looked questioningly at his +employer, as if to ask what this cryptic sentence meant. Pine knew only +too well, since Chaldea had impressed him thoroughly with the fact that +she had overheard many of his secrets. Therefore he did not waste time +in argument, but nodded quietly. "Sleep in peace, sister. The camp shall +stay, if you wish it." + +"I do wish it!" She glanced at Silver and changed her speech to Romany. +"The ring will be here," tapping her finger, "in one week if we stay." + +"So be it, sister," replied Pine, also in Romany, and with a gleam of +satisfaction in his dark eyes. "Go now and return when this Gentile +goes. What of the golden Gorgious one?" + +"He seeks Lundra this night." + +"For the ring, sister?" + +Chaldea looked hard at him. "For the ring" she said abruptly, then +dropping the tent-flap which she had held all the time, she disappeared. + +Silver looked at his master inquiringly, and noted that he seemed very +satisfied. "What did she say in Romany?" he asked eagerly. + +"True news and new news, and news you never heard of," mocked Pine. +"Don't ask questions, Mark." + +"But since I am your secretary--" + +"You are secretary to Hubert Pine, not to Ishmael Hearne," broke in the +other man. "And when Romany is spoken it concerns the last." + +Silver's pale-colored, red-rimmed eyes twinkled in an evil manner. "You +are afraid that I may learn too much about you." + +"You know all that is to be known," retorted Pine sharply. "But I won't +have you meddle with my Romany business. A Gentile such as you are +cannot understand the chals." + +"Try me." + +"There is no need. You are my secretary--my trusted secretary--that is +quite enough. I pay you well to keep my secrets." + +"I don't keep them because you pay me," said Silver quickly, and with a +look of meekness belied by the sinister gleam in his pale bluish eyes. +"It is devotion that makes me honest. I owe everything to you." + +"I think you do," observed Pine quietly. "When I found you in +Whitechapel you were only a pauper toymaker." + +"An inventor of toys, remember. You made your fortune out of my +inventions." + +"The three clever toys you invented laid the foundations of my wealth," +corrected the millionaire calmly. "But I made my money in the South +African share business. And if I hadn't taken up your toys, you would +have been now struggling in Whitechapel, since there was no one but me +to exploit your brains in the toy-making way. I have rescued you from +starvation; I have made you my secretary, and pay you a good salary, and +I have introduced you to good society. Yes, you do indeed owe everything +to me. Yet--" he paused. + +"Yet what?" + +"Miss Greeby observed that those who have most cause to be grateful are +generally the least thankful to those who befriend them. I am not sure +but what she is right." + +Silver pushed up his lower lip contemptuously, and a derisive expression +came over his clean-shaven face. "Does a clever man like you go to that +emancipated woman for experience?" + +"Emancipated women are usually very clever," said Pine dryly, "as they +combine the logic of the male with the intuition of the female. And I +have observed myself, in many cases, that kindness brings out +ingratitude." + +Silver looked sullen and uneasy. "I don't know why you should talk to me +in this strain," he said irritably. "I appreciate what you have done for +me, and have no reason to treat you badly. If I did--" + +"I would break you," flamed out his employer, angered by the mere +thought. "So long as you serve me well, Silver, I am your friend, and I +shall treat you as I have always done, with every consideration. But you +play any tricks on me, and--" he paused expressively. + +"Oh, I won't betray you, if that's what you mean." + +"I am quite sure you won't," said the millionaire with emphasis. "For if +you do, you return to your original poverty. And remember, Mark, that +there is nothing in my life which has any need of concealment." + +Silver cast a look round the tent and at the rough clothes of the +speaker. "No need of any concealment?" he asked significantly. + +"Certainly not," rejoined Pine violently. "I don't wish my gypsy origin +to be known in the Gentile world. But if the truth did come to light, +there is nothing to be ashamed of. I commit no crime in calling myself +by a Gorgio name and in accumulating a fortune. You have no hold over +me." The man's look was so threatening that Silver winced. + +"I don't hint at any hold over you," he observed mildly. "I am bound to +you both by gratitude and self-interest." + +"Aha. That last is better. It is just as well that we have come to this +understanding. If you--" Pine's speech was ended by a sharp fit of +coughing, and Silver looked at his contortions with a thin-lipped smile. + +"You'll kill yourself if you live this damp colonial sort of tent-life," +was his observation. "Here, take a drink of water." + +Pine did so, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his rough coat. +"You're a Gorgio," he said, weakly, for the fit had shaken him, "and +can't understand how a bred and born Romany longs for the smell of the +smoke, the space of the open country, and the sound of the kalo jib. +However, I did not ask you here to discuss these things, but to take my +instructions." + +"About Lady Agnes?" asked the secretary, his eyes scintillating. + +"You have had those long ago, although, trusting my wife as I do, there +was really no need for me to ask you to watch her." + +"That is very true. Lady Agnes is exceedingly circumspect." + +"Is she happy?" + +Silver lifted his shoulders. "As happy as a woman can be who is married +to one man while she loves another." + +He expected an outburst of anger from his employer, but none came. On +the contrary, Pine sighed, restlessly. "Poor soul. I did her a wrong in +making her my wife. She would have been happier with Lambert in his +poverty." + +"Probably! Her tastes don't lie like those of other women in the +direction of squandering money. By the way, I suppose, since you are +here, that you know Lambert is staying in the Abbot's Wood Cottage?" + +"Yes, I know that. And what of it?" demanded the millionaire sharply. + +"Nothing; only I thought you would like to know. I fancied you had come +here to see if--" + +"I did not. I can trust you to see that my wife and Lambert do not meet +without spying myself." + +"If you love and trust your wife so entirely, I wonder you ask me to spy +on her at all," said Silver with a faint sneer. + +"She is a woman, and we gypsies have sufficient of the Oriental in us to +mistrust even the most honest women. Lambert has not been to The Manor?" + +"No. That's a bad sign. He can't trust himself in her presence." + +"I'll choke the life out of you, rat that you are, if you talk in such a +way about my wife. What you think doesn't matter. Hold your tongue, and +come to business. I asked you here to take my instructions." + +Silver was rather cowed by this outburst, as he was cunning enough to +know precisely how far he could venture with safety. "I am waiting," he +observed in sullen tones. + +"Garvington--as I knew he would--has ordered us off the land. As the +wood is really mine, since I hold it as security, having paid off the +mortgage, I don't choose that he should deal with it as though it were +his own. Here"--he passed along a letter--"I have written that on my +office paper, and you will see that it says, I have heard how gypsies +are camping here, and that it is my wish they should remain. Garvington +is not to order them off on any pretext whatsoever. You understand?" + +"Yes." Silver nodded, and slipped the paper into his breast pocket after +a hasty glance at the contents, which were those the writer had stated. +"But if Garvington wishes to know why you take such an interest in the +gypsies, what am I to say?" + +"Say nothing. Simply do what I have told you." + +"Garvington may suspect that you are a Romany." + +"He won't. He thinks that I'm in Paris, and will never connect me with +Ishmael Hearne. If he asks questions when we meet I can tell him my own +tale. By the way, why is he so anxious to get rid of the tribe?" + +"There have been many burglaries lately in various parts of Hengishire," +explained the secretary. "And Garvington is afraid lest the gypsies +should be mixed up with them. He thinks, this camp being near, some of +the men may break into the house." + +"What nonsense! Gypsies steal, I don't deny, but in an open way. They +are not burglars, however, and never will be. Garvington has never seen +any near The Manor that he should take fright in this way." + +"I am not so sure of that. Once or twice I have seen that girl who came +to you hanging about the house." + +"Chaldea?" Pine started and looked earnestly at his companion. + +"Yes. She told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune one day when she met her in the +park, and also tried to make Lady Agnes cross her hand with silver for +the same purpose. Nothing came of that, however, as your wife refused to +have her fortune told." + +Pine frowned and looked uneasy, remembering that Chaldea knew of his +Gentile masquerading. However, as he could see no reason to suspect that +the girl had betrayed him, since she had nothing to gain by taking such +a course, he passed the particular incident over. "I must tell Chaldea +not to go near The Manor," he muttered. + +"You will be wise; and tell the men also. Garvington has threatened to +shoot any one who tries to enter his house." + +"Garvington's a little fool," said Pine violently. "There is no chance +that the Romany will enter his house. He can set his silly mind at +rest." + +"Well, you're warned," said Silver with an elaborate pretence of +indifference. + +Pine looked up, growling. "What the devil do you mean, Mark? Do you +think that I intend to break in. Fool! A Romany isn't a thief of that +sort." + +"I fancied from tradition that they were thieves of all sorts," retorted +the secretary coolly. "And suppose you took a fancy to come quietly and +see your wife?" + +"I should never do that in this dress," interrupted the millionaire in a +sharp tone. "My wife would then know my true name and birth. I wish to +keep that from her, although there is nothing disgraceful in the secret. +I wonder why you say that?" he said, looking searchingly at the little +man. + +"Only because Lambert is in the--" + +"Lambert! Lambert! You are always harping on Lambert." + +"I have your interest at heart." + +Pine laughed doubtfully. "I am not so sure of that. Self-interest +rather. I trust my wife--" + +"You do, since you make me spy on her," said Silver caustically. + +"I trust my wife so far," pursued the other man, "if you will permit me +to finish my sentence. There is no need for her to see her cousin, +and--as they have kept apart for so long--I don't think there is any +chance of their seeking one another's company." + +"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," remarked the secretary +sententiously. "And you may be living in a fool's paradise. Lambert is +within running-away distance of her, remember." + +Pine laughed in a raucous manner. "An elopement would have taken place +long ago had it been intended," he snapped tartly. "Don't imagine +impossibilities, Mark. Agnes married me for my money, so that I might +save the credit of the Lambert family. But for me, Garvington would have +passed through the Bankruptcy Court long ago. I have paid off certain +mortgages, but I hold them as security for my wife's good behavior. She +knows that an elopement with her cousin would mean the ruin of her +brother." + +"You do, indeed, trust her," observed Silver sarcastically. + +"I trust her so far and no further," repeated Pine with an angry snarl. +"A Gentile she is, and Gentiles are tricky." He stretched out a slim, +brown hand significantly and opened it. "I hold her and Garvington +there," and he tapped the palm lightly. + +"You don't hold Lambert, and he is the dangerous one." + +"Only dangerous if Agnes consents to run away with him, and she won't do +that," replied Pine coolly. + +"Well, she certainly doesn't care for money." + +"She cares for the credit of her family, and gave herself to me, so that +the same might be saved." + +Silver shrugged his narrow shoulders. "What fools these aristocrats +are," he observed pleasantly. "Even if Garvington were sold up he would +still have his title and enough to live on in a quiet way." + +"Probably. But it was not entirely to save his estates that he agreed to +my marriage with his sister," said Pine pointedly and quietly. + +"Eh! What?" The little man's foxy face became alive with eager inquiry. + +"Nothing," said Pine roughly, and rose heavily to his feet. "Mind your +own infernal business, and mine also. Go back and show that letter to +Garvington. I want my tribe to stay here." + +"_My_ tribe," laughed Silver, scrambling to his feet; and when he took +his departure he was still laughing. He wondered what Garvington would +say did he know that his sister was married to a full-blooded Romany. + +Pine, in the character of a horse-coper, saw him out of the camp, and +was staring after him when Chaldea, on the watch, touched his shoulder. + +"I come to your tent, brother," she said with very bright eyes. + +"Eh? Yes!" Pine aroused himself out of a brown study. "Avali, miri pen. +You have things to say to me?" + +"Golden things, which have to do with your happiness and mine, brother." + +"Hai? A wedding-ring, sister." + +"Truly, brother, if you be a true Romany and not the Gentile you call +yourself." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +AT MIDNIGHT. + + +Silver's delivery of his employer's orders to Lord Garvington were +apparently carried out, for no further intimation was given to the +gypsies that they were to vacate Abbot's Wood. The master of The Manor +grumbled a good deal at the high tone taken by his brother-in-law, as, +having the instincts of a landlord, he strongly objected to the presence +of such riff-raff on his estates. However, as Pine had the whip-hand of +him, he was obliged to yield, although he could not understand why the +man should favor the Romany in this way. + +"Some of his infernal philanthropy, I suppose," said Garvington, in a +tone of disgust, to the secretary. "Pine's always doing this sort of +thing, and people ain't a bit grateful." + +"Well," said Silver dryly, "I suppose that's his look-out." + +"If it is, let him keep to his own side of the road," retorted the +other. "Since I don't interfere with his business, let him not meddle +with mine." + +"As he holds the mortgage and can foreclose at any moment, it _is_ his +business," insisted Silver tartly. "And, after all, the gypsies are +doing no very great harm." + +"They will if they get the chance. I'd string up the whole lot if I had +my way, Silver. Poachers and blackguards every one of them. I know that +Pine is always helping rotters in London, but I didn't know that he had +any cause to interfere with this lot. How did he come to know about +them?" + +"Well, Mr. Lambert might have told him," answered the secretary, not +unwilling to draw that young man into the trouble. "He is at Abbot's +Wood." + +"Yes, I lent him the cottage, and this is my reward. He meddles with my +business along with Pine. Why can't he shut his mouth?" + +"I don't say that Mr. Lambert did tell him, but he might have done so." + +"I am quite sure that he did," said Garvington emphatically, and growing +red all over his chubby face. "Otherwise Pine would never have heard, +since he is in Paris. I shall speak to Lambert." + +"You won't find him at home. I looked in at his cottage to pass the +time, and his housekeeper said that he had gone to London all of a +sudden, this very evening." + +"Oh, he'll turn up again," said Garvington carelessly. "He's sick of +town, Silver, since--" The little man hesitated. + +"Since when?" asked the secretary curiously. + +"Never mind," retorted the other gruffly, for he did not wish to mention +the enforced marriage of his sister, to Silver. Of course, there was no +need to, as Garvington, aware that the neat, foxy-faced man was his +brother-in-law's confidential adviser, felt sure that everything was +known to him. "I'll leave those blamed gypsies alone meanwhile," +finished Garvington, changing and finishing the conversation. "But I'll +speak to Pine when I see him." + +"He returns from Paris in three weeks," remarked Silver, at which +information the gross little lord simply hunched his fat shoulders. Much +as Pine had done for him, Garvington hated the man with all the power of +his mean and narrow mind, and as the millionaire returned this dislike +with a feeling of profound contempt, the two met as seldom as possible. +Only Lady Agnes was the link between them, the visible object of sale +and barter, which had been sold by one to the other. + +It was about this time that the house-party at The Manor began to break +up; since it was now the first week in September, and many of the +shooters wished to go north for better sport. Many of the men departed, +and some of the women, who were due at other country houses; but Mrs. +Belgrove and Miss Greeby still remained. The first because she found +herself extremely comfortable, and appreciated Garvington's cook; and +the second on account of Lambert being in the vicinity. Miss Greeby had +been very disappointed to learn that the young man had gone to London, +but heard from Mrs. Tribb that he was expected back in three days. She +therefore lingered so as to have another conversation with him, and +meanwhile haunted the gypsy camp for the purpose of keeping an eye on +Chaldea, who was much too beautiful for her peace of mind. Sometimes +Silver accompanied her, as the lady had given him to understand that she +knew Pine's real rank and name, so the two were made free of the +Bohemians and frequently chatted with Ishmael Hearne. But they kept his +secret, as did Chaldea; and Garvington had no idea that the man he +dreaded and hated--who flung money to him as if he were tossing a bone +to a dog--was within speaking distance. If he had known, he would +assuredly have guessed the reason why Sir Hubert Pine had interested +himself in the doings of a wandering tribe of undesirable creatures. + +A week passed away and still, although Miss Greeby made daily inquiries, +Lambert did not put in an appearance at the forest cottage. Thinking +that he had departed to escape her, she made up her impatient mind to +repair to London, and to hunt him up at his club. With this idea she +intimated to Lady Garvington that she was leaving The Manor early next +morning. The ladies had just left the dinner-table, and were having +coffee in the drawing-room when Miss Greeby made this abrupt +announcement. + +"Oh, my dear," said Lady Garvington, in dismay. "I wish you would change +your mind. Nearly everyone has gone, and the house is getting quite +dull." + +"Thanks ever so much," remarked Mrs. Belgrove lightly. She sat near the +fire, for the evening was chilly, and what with paint and powder, and +hair-dye, to say nothing of her artistic and carefully chosen dress, +looked barely thirty-five in the rosy lights cast by the shaded lamps. + +"I don't mean you, dear," murmured the hostess, who was even more untidy +and helpless than usual. "You are quite a host in yourself. And that +recipe you gave me for Patagonian soup kept Garvington in quite a good +humor for ever so long. But the house will be dull for you without +Clara." + +"Agnes is here, Jane." + +"I fear Agnes is not much of an entertainer," said that lady, smiling in +a weary manner, for this society chatter bored her greatly. + +"That's not to be wondered at," struck in Miss Greeby abruptly. "For of +course you are thinking of your husband." + +Lady Agnes colored slightly under Miss Greeby's very direct gaze, but +replied equably enough, to save appearances, "He is still in Paris." + +"When did you last hear from him, dear?" questioned Lady Garvington, +more to manufacture conversation than because she really cared. + +"Only to-day I had a letter. He is carrying out some special business +and will return in two or three weeks." + +"You will be glad to see him, no doubt," sneered Miss Greeby. + +"I am always glad to see my husband and to be with him," answered Lady +Agnes in a dignified manner. She knew perfectly well that Miss Greeby +hated her, and guessed the reason, but she was not going to give her any +satisfaction by revealing the true feelings of her heart. + +"Well, I intend to stay here, Jane, if it's all the same to you," cried +Mrs. Belgrove in her liveliest manner and with a side glance, taking in +both Miss Greeby and Lady Agnes. "Only this morning I received a +chit-chat letter from Mr. Lambert--we are great friends you know--saying +that he intended to come here for a few days. Such a delightful man he +is." + +"Oh, dear me, yes," cried Lady Garvington, starting. "I remember. He +wrote yesterday from London, asking if he might come. I told him yes, +although I mentioned that we had hardly anyone with us just now." + +Miss Greeby looked greatly annoyed, as Mrs. Belgrove maliciously saw, +for she knew well that the heiress would now regret having so hastily +intimated her approaching departure. What was the expression on Lady +Agnes's face, the old lady could not see, for the millionaire's wife +shielded it--presumably from the fire--with a large fan of white +feathers. Had Mrs. Belgrove been able to read that countenance she would +have seen satisfaction written thereon, and would probably have set down +the expression to a wrong cause. In reality, Agnes was glad to think +that Lambert's promise was being kept, and that he no longer intended to +avoid her company so openly. + +But if she was pleased, Miss Greeby was not, and still continued to look +annoyed, since she had burnt her boats by announcing her departure. And +what annoyed her still more than her hasty decision was, that she would +leave Lambert in the house along with the rival she most dreaded. Though +what the young man could see in this pale, washed-out creature Miss +Greeby could not imagine. She glanced at a near mirror and saw her own +opulent, full-blown looks clothed in a pale-blue dinner-gown, which went +so well--as she inartistically decided, with her ruddy locks, Mrs. +Belgrove considered that Miss Greeby looked like a paint-box, or a +sunset, or one of Turner's most vivid pictures, but the heiress was very +well pleased with herself. Lady Agnes, in her favorite white, with her +pale face and serious looks, was but a dull person of the nun +persuasion. And Miss Greeby did not think that Lambert cared for nuns, +when he had an Amazonian intelligent pal--so she put it--at hand. But, +of course, he might prefer dark beauties like Chaldea. Poor Miss Greeby; +she was pursuing her wooing under very great difficulties, and became +silent in order to think out some way of revoking in some natural +manner the information of her departure. + +There were other women in the room, who joined in the conversation, and +all were glad to hear that Mr. Lambert intended to pay a visit to his +cousin, for, indeed, the young man was a general favorite. And then as +two or three decided--Mrs. Belgrove amongst the number--there really +could be nothing in the report that he loved Lady Agnes still, else he +would scarcely come and stay where she was. As for Pine's wife, she was +a washed-out creature, who had never really loved her cousin as people +had thought. And after all, why should she, since he was so poor, +especially when she was married to a millionaire with the looks of an +Eastern prince, and manners of quite an original nature, although these +were not quite conventional. Oh, yes, there was nothing in the scandal +that said Garvington had sold his sister to bolster up the family +property. Lady Agnes was quite happy, and her husband was a dear man, +who left her a great deal to her own devices--which he wouldn't have +done had he suspected the cousin; and who gave her pots of money to +spend. And what more could a sensible woman want? + +In this way those in the drawing-room babbled, while Agnes stared into +the fire, bracing herself to encounter Lambert, who would surely arrive +within the next two or three days, and while Miss Greeby savagely +rebuked herself for having so foolishly intimated her departure. Then +the men straggled in from their wine, and bridge became the order of the +night with some, while others begged for music. After a song or so and +the execution of a Beethoven sonata, to which no one paid any attention, +a young lady gave a dance after the manner of Maud Allan, to which +everyone attended. Then came feats of strength, in which Miss Greeby +proved herself to be a female Sandow, and later a number of the guests +sojourned to the billiard-room to play. When they grew weary of that, +tobogganing down the broad staircase on trays was suggested and indulged +in amidst shrieks of laughter. Afterwards, those heated by this +horse-play strayed on to the terrace to breathe the fresh air, and flirt +in the moonlight. In fact, every conceivable way of passing the time was +taken advantage of by these very bored people, who scarcely knew how to +get through the long evening. + +"They seem to be enjoying themselves, Freddy," said Lady Garvington to +her husband, when she drifted against him in the course of attending to +her guests. "I really think they find this jolly." + +"I don't care a red copper what they find," retorted the little man, who +was looking worried, and not quite his usual self. "I wish the whole lot +would get out of the house. I'm sick of them." + +"Ain't you well, Freddy? I knew that Patagonian soup was too rich for +you." + +"Oh, the soup was all right--ripping soup," snorted Freddy, smacking his +lips over the recollection. "But I'm bothered over Pine." + +"He isn't ill, is he?" questioned Lady Garvington anxiously. She liked +her brother-in-law, who was always kind to her. + +"No, hang him; nothing worse than his usual lung trouble, I suppose. But +he is in Paris, and won't answer my letters." + +"Letters, Freddy dear." + +"Yes, Jane dear," he mocked. "Hang it, I want money, and he won't stump +up. I can't even get an answer." + +"Speak to Mr. Silver." + +"Damn Mr. Silver!" + +"Well, I'm sure, Frederick, you needn't swear at me," said poor, wan +Lady Garvington, drawing herself up. "Mr. Silver is very kind. He went +to that gypsy camp and found out how they cook hedgehog. That will be a +new dish for you, dear. You haven't eaten hedgehog." + +"No. And what's more, I don't intend to eat it. But you may as well tell +me how these gypsies cook it," and Freddy listened with both his red +ears to the description, on hearing which he decided that his wife +might instruct the cook how to prepare the animal. "But no one will eat +it but me." + +Lady Garvington shuddered. "I shan't touch it myself. Those horrid +snails you insisted on being cooked a week ago made me quite ill. You +are always trying new experiments, Freddy." + +"Because I get so tired of every-day dishes," growled Lord Garvington. +"These cooks have no invention. I wish I'd lived in Rome when they had +those banquets you read of in Gibbon." + +"Did he write a book on cookery?" asked Lady Garvington very naturally. + +"No. He turned out a lot of dull stuff about wars and migrations of +tribes: you are silly, Jane." + +"What's that about migration of tribes?" asked Mrs. Belgrove, who was in +a good humor, as she had won largely at bridge. "You don't mean those +dear gypsies at Abbot's Wood do you, Lord Garvington? I met one of them +the other day--quite a girl and very pretty in a dark way. She told my +fortune, and said that I would come in for a lot of money. I'm sure I +hope so," sighed Mrs. Belgrove. "Celestine is so expensive, but no one +can fit me like she can. And she knows it, and takes advantage, the +horrid creature." + +"I wish the tribe of gypsies would clear out," snapped Freddy, standing +before the fire and glaring at the company generally. "I know they'll +break in here and rob." + +"Well," drawled Silver, who was hovering near, dressed so carefully that +he looked more of a foxy, neat bounder than ever. "I have noticed that +some of the brutes have been sneaking round the place." + +Mrs. Belgrove shrieked. "Oh, how lucky I occupy a bedroom on the third +floor. Just like a little bird in its tiny-weeny nest. They can't get at +me there, can they, Lord Garvington?" + +"They don't want you," observed Miss Greeby in her deep voice. "It's +your diamonds they'd like to get." + +"Oh!" Mrs. Belgrove shrieked again. "Lock my diamonds up in your strong +room, Lord Garvington. Do! do! do! To please poor little me," and she +effusively clasped her lean hands, upon which many of the said diamonds +glittered. + +"I don't think there is likely to be any trouble with these poor +gypsies, Mrs. Belgrove," remarked Lady Agnes negligently. "Hubert has +told me a great deal about them, and they are really not so bad as +people make out." + +"Your husband can't know anything of such ragtags," said Miss Greeby, +looking at the beautiful, pale face, and wondering if she really had any +suspicion that Pine was one of the crew she mentioned. + +"Oh, but Hubert does," answered Lady Agnes innocently. "He has met many +of them when he has been out helping people. You have no idea, any of +you, how good Hubert is," she added, addressing the company generally. +"He walks on the Embankment sometimes on winter nights and gives the +poor creatures money. And in the country I have often seen him stop to +hand a shilling to some tramp in the lanes." + +"A gypsy for choice," growled Miss Greeby, marvelling that Lady Agnes +could not see the resemblance between the tramps' faces and that of her +own husband. "However, I hope Pine's darlings won't come here to rob. +I'll fight for my jewels, I can promise you." + +One of the men laughed. "I shouldn't like to get a blow from your fist." + +Miss Greeby smiled grimly, and looked at his puny stature. "Women have +to protect themselves from men like you," she said, amidst great +laughter, for the physical difference between her and the man was quite +amusing. + +"It's all very well talking," said Garvington crossly. "But I don't +trust these gypsies." + +"Why don't you clear them off your land then?" asked Silver daringly. + +Garvington glared until his gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his red +face. "I'll clear everyone to bed, that's what I'll do," he retorted, +crossing the room to the middle French window of the drawing-room. "I +wish you fellows would stop your larking out there," he cried. "It's +close upon midnight, and all decent people should be in bed." + +"Since when have you joined the Methodists, Garvington?" asked an +officer who had come over from some twelve-mile distant barracks to pass +the night, and a girl behind him began to sing a hymn. + +Lady Agnes frowned. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Miss Ardale," she +said in sharp rebuke, and the girl had the sense to be silent, while +Garvington fussed over the closing of the window shutters. + +"Going to stand a siege?" asked Miss Greeby, laughing. "Or do you expect +burglars, particularly on this night." + +"I don't expect them at all," retorted the little man. "But I tell you I +hate the idea of these lawless gypsies about the place. Still, if anyone +comes," he added grimly, "I shall shoot." + +"Then the attacking person or party needn't bother," cried the officer. +"I shouldn't mind standing up to your fire, myself, Garvington." + +With laughter and chatter and much merriment at the host's expense, the +guests went their several ways, the women to chat in one another's +dressing-rooms and the men to have a final smoke and a final drink. +Garvington, with two footmen, and his butler, went round the house, +carefully closing all the shutters, and seeing that all was safe. His +sister rather marvelled at this excessive precaution, and said as much +to her hostess. + +"It wouldn't matter if the gypsies did break in," she said when alone +with Lady Garvington in her own bedroom. "It would be some excitement, +for all these people must find it very dull here." + +"I'm sure I do my best, Agnes," said the sister-in-law plaintively. + +"Of course, you do, you poor dear," said the other, kissing her. "But +Garvington always asks people here who haven't two ideas. A horrid, +rowdy lot they are. I wonder you stand it." + +"Garvington asks those he likes, Agnes." + +"I see. He hasn't any brains, and his guests suit him for the same +reason." + +"They eat a great deal," wailed Lady Garvington. "I'm sure I might as +well be a cook. All my time is taken up with feeding them." + +"Well, Freddy married you, Jane, because you had a genius for looking +after food. Your mother was much the same; she always kept a good +table." Lady Agnes laughed. "Yours was a most original wooing, Jane." + +"I'd like to live on bread and water for my part, Agnes." + +"Put Freddy on it, dear. He's getting too stout. I never thought that +gluttony was a crime. But when I look at Freddy"--checking her speech, +she spread out her hands with an ineffable look--"I'm glad that Noel is +coming," she ended, rather daringly. "At least he will be more +interesting than any of these frivolous people you have collected." + +Lady Garvington looked at her anxiously. "You don't mind Noel coming?" + +"No, dear. Why should I?" + +"Well you see, Agnes, I fancied--" + +"Don't fancy anything. Noel and I entirely understand one another." + +"I hope," blurted out the other woman, "that it is a right +understanding?" + +Agnes winced, and looked at her with enforced composure. "I am devoted +to my husband," she said, with emphasis. "And I have every reason to be. +He has kept his part of the bargain, so I keep mine. But," she added +with a pale smile, "when I think how I sold myself to keep up the credit +of the family, and now see Freddy entertaining this riff-raff, I am +sorry that I did not marry Noel, whom I loved so dearly." + +"That would have meant our ruin," bleated Lady Garvington, sadly. + +"Your ruin is only delayed, Jane. Freddy is a weak, self-indulgent fool, +and is eating his way into the next world. It will be a happy day for +you when an apoplectic fit makes you a widow." + +"My dear," the wife was shocked, "he is your brother." + +"More's the pity. I have no illusions about Freddy, Jane, and I don't +think you have either. Now, go away and sleep. It's no use lying awake +thinking over to-morrow's dinner. Give Freddy the bread and water you +talked about." + +Lady Garvington laughed in a weak, aimless way, and then kissed her +sister-in-law with a sigh, after which she drifted out of the room in +her usual vague manner. Very shortly the clock over the stables struck +midnight, and by that time Garvington the virtuous had induced all his +men guests to go to bed. The women chatted a little longer, and then, in +their turn, sought repose. By half-past twelve the great house was in +complete darkness, and bulked a mighty mass of darkness in the pale +September moonlight. + +Lady Agnes got to bed quickly, and tired out by the boredom of the +evening, quickly fell asleep. Suddenly she awoke with all her senses on +the alert, and with a sense of vague danger hovering round. There were +sounds of running feet and indistinct oaths and distant cries, and she +could have sworn that a pistol-shot had startled her from slumber. In a +moment she was out of bed and ran to open her window. On looking out +she saw that the moonlight was very brilliant, and in it beheld a tall +man running swiftly from the house. He sped down the broad path, and +just when he was abreast of a miniature shrubbery, she heard a second +shot, which seemed to be fired there-from. The man staggered, and +stumbled and fell. Immediately afterwards, her brother--she recognized +his voice raised in anger--ran out of the house, followed by some of the +male guests. Terrified by the sight and the sound of the shots, Lady +Agnes huddled on her dressing-gown hastily, and thrust her bare feet +into slippers. The next moment she was out of her bedroom and down the +stairs. A wild idea had entered her mind that perhaps Lambert had come +secretly to The Manor, and had been shot by Garvington in mistake for a +burglar. The corridors and the hall were filled with guests more or less +lightly attired, mostly women, white-faced and startled. Agnes paid no +attention to their shrieks, but hurried into the side passage which +terminated at the door out of which her brother had left the house. She +went outside also and made for the group round the fallen man. + +"What is it? who is it?" she asked, gasping with the hurry and the +fright. + +"Go back, Agnes, go back," cried Garvington, looking up with a distorted +face, strangely pale in the moonlight. + +"But who is it? who has been killed?" She caught sight of the fallen +man's countenance and shrieked. "Great heavens! it is Hubert; is he +dead?" + +"Yes," said Silver, who stood at her elbow. "Shot through the heart." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +AFTERWARDS. + + +With amazing and sinister rapidity the news spread that a burglar had +been shot dead while trying to raid The Manor. First, the Garvington +villagers learned it; then it became the common property of the +neighborhood, until it finally reached the nearest county town, and thus +brought the police on the scene. Lord Garvington was not pleased when +the local inspector arrived, and intimated as much in a somewhat +unpleasant fashion. He was never a man who spared those in an inferior +social position. + +"It is no use your coming over, Darby," he said bluntly to the +red-haired police officer, who was of Irish extraction. "I have sent to +Scotland Yard." + +"All in good time, my lord," replied the inspector coolly. "As the +murder has taken place in my district I have to look into the matter, +and report to the London authorities, if it should be necessary." + +"What right have you to class the affair as a murder?" inquired +Garvington. + +"I only go by the rumors I have heard, my lord. Some say that you winged +the man and broke his right arm. Others tell me that a second shot was +fired in the garden, and it was that which killed Ishmael Hearne." + +"It is true, Darby. I only fired the first shot, as those who were with +me will tell you. I don't know who shot in the garden, and apparently no +one else does. It was this unknown individual in the garden that killed +Hearne. By the way, how did you come to hear the name?" + +"Half a dozen people have told me, my lord, along with the information I +have just given you. Nothing else is talked of far and wide." + +"And it is just twelve o'clock," muttered the stout little lord, wiping +his scarlet face pettishly. "Ill news travels fast. However, as you are +here, you may as well take charge of things until the London men +arrive." + +"The London men aren't going to usurp my privileges, my lord," said +Darby, firmly. "There's no sense in taking matters out of my hands. And +if you will pardon my saying so, I should have been sent for in the +first instance." + +"I daresay," snapped Garvington, coolly. "But the matter is too +important to be left in the hands of a local policeman." + +Darby was nettled, and his hard eyes grew angry. "I am quite competent +to deal with any murder, even if it is that of the highest in England, +much less with the death of a common gypsy." + +"That's just where it is, Darby. The common gypsy who has been shot +happens to be my brother-in-law." + +"Sir Hubert Pine?" questioned the inspector, thoroughly taken aback. + +"Yes! Of course I didn't know him when I fired, or I should not have +done so, Darby. I understood, and his wife, my sister, understood, that +Sir Hubert was in Paris. It passes my comprehension to guess why he +should have come in the dead of night, dressed as a gypsy, to raid my +house." + +"Perhaps it was a bet," said Darby, desperately puzzled. + +"Bet, be hanged! Pine could come openly to this place whenever he liked. +I never was so astonished in my life as when I saw him lying dead near +the shrubbery. And the worst of it is, that my sister ran out and saw +him also. She fainted and has been in bed ever since, attended by Lady +Garvington." + +"You had no idea that the man you shot was Sir Hubert, my lord?" + +"Hang it, no! Would I have shot him had I guessed who he was?" + +"No, no, my lord! of course not," said the officer hastily. "But as +I have come to take charge of the case, you will give me a detailed +account of what has taken place." + +"I would rather wait until the Scotland Yard fellows come," grumbled +Garvington, "as I don't wish to repeat my story twice. Still, as you are +on the spot, I may as well ask your advice. You may be able to throw +some light on the subject. I'm hanged if I can." + +Darby pulled out his notebook. "I am all attention, my lord." + +Garvington plunged abruptly into his account, first having looked to see +if the library door was firmly closed. "As there have been many +burglaries lately in this part of the world," he said, speaking with +deliberation, "I got an idea into my head that this house might be +broken into." + +"Natural enough, my lord," interposed Darby, glancing round the splendid +room. "A historic house such as this is, would tempt any burglar." + +"So I thought," remarked the other, pleased that Darby should agree with +him so promptly. "And I declared several times, within the hearing of +many people, that if a raid was made, I should shoot the first man who +tried to enter. Hang it, an Englishman's house is his castle, and no man +has a right to come in without permission." + +"Quite so, my lord. But the punishment of the burglar should be left to +the law," said the inspector softly. + +"Oh, the deuce take the law! I prefer to execute my own punishments. +However, to make a long story short, I grew more afraid of a raid when +these gypsies came to camp at Abbot's Wood, as they are just the sort of +scoundrels who would break in and steal." + +"Why didn't you order them off your land?" asked the policeman, alertly. + +"I did, and then my brother-in-law sent a message through his secretary, +who is staying here, asking me to allow them to remain. I did." + +"Why did Sir Hubert send that message, my lord?" + +"Hang it, man, that's just what I am trying to learn, and I am the more +puzzled because he came last night dressed as a gypsy." + +"He must be one," said Darby, who had seen Pine and now recalled his +dark complexion and jetty eyes. "It seems, from what I have been told, +that he stopped at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael +Hearne." + +"So Silver informed me." + +"Who is he?" + +"Pine's secretary, who knows all his confidential affairs. Silver +declared, when the secret could be kept no longer, that Pine was really +a gypsy, called Ishmael Hearne. Occasionally longing for the old life, +he stepped down from his millionaire pedestal and mixed with his own +people. When he was supposed to be in Paris, he was really with the +gypsies, so you can now understand why he sent the message asking me to +let these vagrants stay." + +"You told me a few moments ago, that you could not understand that +message, my lord," said Darby quickly, and looking searchingly at the +other man. Garvington grew a trifle confused. "Did I? Well, to tell you +the truth, Darby, I'm so mixed up over the business that I can't say +what I do know, or what I don't know. You'd better take all I tell you +with a grain of salt until I am quite myself again." + +"Natural enough, my lord," remarked the inspector again, and quite +believed what he said. "And the details of the murder?" + +"I went to bed as usual," said Garvington, wearily, for the events of +the night had tired him out, "and everyone else retired some time about +midnight. I went round with the footmen and the butler to see that +everything was safe, for I was too anxious to let them look after things +without me. Then I heard a noise of footsteps on the gravel outside, +just as I was dropping off to sleep--" + +"About what time was that, my lord?" + +"Half-past one o'clock; I can't be certain as to a minute. I jumped up +and laid hold of my revolver, which was handy. I always kept it beside +me in case of a burglary. Then I stole downstairs in slippers and +pajamas to the passage,--oh, here." Garvington rose quickly. "Come with +me and see the place for yourself!" + +Inspector Darby put on his cap, and with his notebook still in his hand, +followed the stout figure of his guide. Garvington led him through the +entrance hall and into a side-passage, which terminated in a narrow +door. There was no one to spy on them, as the master of the house had +sent all the servants to their own quarters, and the guests were +collected in the drawing-room and smoking-room, although a few of the +ladies remained in their bedrooms, trying to recover from the night's +experience. + +"I came down here," said Garvington, opening the door, "and heard the +burglar, as I thought he was, prowling about on the other side. I threw +open the door in this way and the man plunged forward to enter. I fired, +and got him in the right arm, for I saw it swinging uselessly by his +side as he departed." + +"Was he in a hurry?" asked Darby, rather needlessly. + +"He went off like greased lightning. I didn't follow, as I thought that +others of his gang might be about, but closing the door again I shouted +blue murder. In a few minutes everyone came down, and while I was +waiting--it all passed in a flash, remember, Darby--I heard a second +shot. Then the servants and my friends came and we ran out, to find the +man lying by that shrubbery quite dead. I turned him over and had just +grasped the fact that he was my brother-in-law, when Lady Agnes ran out. +When she learned the news she naturally fainted. The women carried her +back to her room, and we took the body of Pine into the house. A doctor +came along this morning--for I sent for a doctor as soon as it was +dawn--and said that Pine had been shot through the heart." + +"And who shot him?" asked Darby sagely. + +Garvington pointed to the shrubbery. "Someone was concealed there," he +declared. + +"How do you know, that, my lord?" + +"My sister, attracted by my shot, jumped out of bed and threw up her +window. She saw the man--of course she never guessed that he was +Pine--running down the path and saw him fall by the shrubbery when the +second shot was fired." + +"Her bedroom is then on this side of the house, my lord?" + +"Up there," said Garvington, pointing directly over the narrow door, +which was painted a rich blue color, and looked rather bizarre, set in +the puritanic greyness of the walls. "My own bedroom is further along +towards the right. That is why I heard the footsteps so plainly on this +gravel." And he stamped hard, while with a wave of his hand he invited +the inspector to examine the surroundings. + +Darby did so with keen eyes and an alert brain. The two stood on the +west side of the mansion, where it fronted the three-miles distant +Abbot's Wood. The Manor was a heterogeneous-looking sort of place, +suggesting the whims and fancies of many generations, for something was +taken away here, and something was taken away there, and this had been +altered, while that had been left in its original state, until the house +seemed to be made up of all possible architectural styles. It was a tall +building of three stories, although the flattish red-tiled roofs took +away somewhat from its height, and spread over an amazing quantity of +land. As Darby thought, it could have housed a regiment, and must have +cost something to keep up. As wind and weather and time had mellowed its +incongruous parts into one neutral tint, it looked odd and attractive. +Moss and lichen, ivy and Virginia creeper--this last flaring in crimson +glory--clothed the massive stone walls with a gracious mantle of natural +beauty. Narrow stone steps, rather chipped, led down from the blue door +to the broad, yellow path, which came round the rear of the house and +swept down hill in a wide curve, past the miniature shrubbery, right +into the bosom of the park. + +"This path," explained Garvington, stamping again, "runs right through +the park to a small wicket gate set in the brick wall, which borders the +high road, Darby." + +"And that runs straightly past Abbot's Wood," mused the inspector. "Of +course, Sir Hubert would know of the path and the wicket gate?" + +"Certainly; don't be an ass, Darby," cried Garvington petulantly. "He +has been in this house dozens of times and knows it as well as I do +myself. Why do you ask so obvious a question?" + +"I was only wondering if Sir Hubert came by the high road to the wicket +gate you speak of, Lord Garvington." + +"That also is obvious," retorted the other, irritably. "Since he wished +to come here, he naturally would take the easiest way." + +"Then why did he not enter by the main avenue gates?" + +"Because at that hour they would be shut, and--since it is evident that +his visit was a secret one--he would have had to knock up the +lodge-keeper." + +"Why was his visit a secret one?" questioned Darby pointedly. + +"That is the thing that puzzles me. Anything more?" + +"Yes? Why should Sir Hubert come to the blue door?" + +"I can't answer that question, either. The whole reason of his being +here, instead of in Paris, is a mystery to me." + +"Oh, as to that last, the reply is easy," remarked the inspector. "Sir +Hubert wished to revert to his free gypsy life, and pretended to be in +Paris, so that he would follow his fancy without the truth becoming +known. But why he should come on this particular night, and by this +particular path to this particular door, is the problem I have to +solve!" + +"Quite so, and I only hope that you will solve it, for the sake of my +sister." + +Darby reflected for a moment or so. "Did Lady Agnes ask her husband to +come here to see her privately?" + +"Hang it, no man!" cried Garvington, aghast. "She believed, as we all +did, that her husband was in Paris, and certainly never dreamed that he +was masquerading as a gypsy three miles away." + +"There was no masquerading about the matter, my lord," said Darby, +dryly; "since Sir Hubert really was a gypsy called Ishmael Hearne. That +fact will come out at the inquest." + +"It has come out now: everyone knows the truth. And a nice thing it is +for me and Lady Agnes." + +"I don't think you need worry about that, Lord Garvington. The honorable +way in which the late Sir Hubert attained rank and gained wealth will +reflect credit on his humble origin. When the papers learn the story--" + +"Confound the papers!" interrupted Garvington fretfully. "I sincerely +hope that they won't make too great a fuss over the business." + +The little man's hope was vain, as he might have guessed that it would +be, for when the news became known in Fleet Street, the newspapers were +only too glad to discover an original sensation for the dead season. +Every day journalists and special correspondents were sent down in such +numbers that the platform of Wanbury Railway Station was crowded with +them. As the town--it was the chief town of Hengishire--was five miles +away from the village of Garvington, every possible kind of vehicle was +used to reach the scene of the crime, and The Manor became a rendezvous +for all the morbid people, both in the neighborhood and out of it. The +reporters in particular poked and pried all over the place, passing from +the great house to the village, and thence to the gypsy camp on the +borders of Abbot's Wood. From one person and another they learned facts, +which were published with such fanciful additions that they read like +fiction. On the authority of Mother Cockleshell--who was not averse to +earning a few shillings--a kind of Gil Blas tale was put into print, and +the wanderings of Ishmael Hearne were set forth in the picturesque style +of a picarooning romance. But of the time when the adventurous gypsy +assumed his Gentile name, the Romany could tell nothing, for obvious +reasons. Until the truth became known, because of the man's tragic and +unforeseen death, those in the camp were not aware that he was a Gorgio +millionaire. But where the story of Mother Cockleshell left off, that of +Mark Silver began, for the secretary had been connected with his +employer almost from the days of Hearne's first exploits as Pine in +London. And Silver--who also charged for the blended fact and fiction +which he supplied--freely related all he knew. + +"Hearne came to London and called himself Hubert Pine," he stated +frankly, and not hesitating to confess his own lowly origin. "We met +when I was starving as a toymaker in Whitechapel. I invented some penny +toys, which Pine put on the market for me. They were successful and he +made money. I am bound to confess that he paid me tolerably well, +although he certainly took the lion's share. With the money he made in +this way, he speculated in South African shares, and, as the boom was +then on, he simply coined gold. Everything he touched turned into cash, +and however deeply he plunged into the money market, he always came out +top in the end. By turning over his money and re-investing it, and by +fresh speculations, he became a millionaire in a wonderfully short space +of time. Then he made me his secretary and afterwards took up politics. +The Government gave him a knighthood for services rendered to his party, +and he became a well-known figure in the world of finance. He married +Lady Agnes Lambert, and--and--that's all." + +"You were aware that he was a gypsy, Mr. Silver?" asked the reporter. + +"Oh, yes. I knew all about his origin from the first days of our +acquaintanceship. He asked me to keep his true name and rank secret. As +it was none of my business, I did so. At times Hearne--or rather Pine, +as I know him best by that name--grew weary of civilization, and then +would return to his own life of the tent and road. No one suspected +amongst the Romany that he was anything else but a horse-coper. He +always pretended to be in Paris, or Berlin, on financial affairs, when +he went back to his people, and I transacted all business during his +absence." + +"You knew that he was at the Abbot's Wood camp?" + +"Certainly. I saw him there once or twice to receive instructions about +business. I expostulated with him for being so near the house where his +brother-in-law and wife were living, as I pointed out that the truth +might easily become known. But Pine merely said that his safety in +keeping his secret lay in his daring to run the risk." + +"Have you any idea that Sir Hubert intended to come by night to Lord +Garvington's house?" + +"Not the slightest. In fact, I told him that Lord Garvington was afraid +of burglars, and had threatened to shoot any man who tried to enter the +house." + +All this Silver said in a perfectly frank, free-and-easy manner, and +also related how the dead man had instructed him to ask Garvington to +allow the gypsies to remain in the wood. The reporter published the +interview with sundry comments of his own, and it was read with great +avidity by the public at large and by the many friends of the +millionaire, who were surprised to learn of the double life led by the +man. Of course, there was nothing disgraceful in Pine's past as Ishmael +Hearne, and all attempts to discover something shady about his +antecedents were vain. Yet--as was pointed out--there must have been +something wrong, else the adventurer, as he plainly was, would not have +met so terrible a death. But in spite of every one's desire to find fire +to account for the smoke, nothing to Pine's disadvantage could be +learned. Even at the inquest, and when the matter was thoroughly +threshed out, the dead man's character proved to be honorable, and--save +in the innocent concealment of his real name and origin--his public and +private life was all that could be desired. The whole story was not +criminal, but truly romantic, and the final tragedy gave a grim touch to +what was regarded, even by the most censorious, as a picturesque +narrative. + +In spite of all his efforts, Inspector Darby, of Wanbury, could produce +no evidence likely to show who had shot the deceased. Lord Garvington, +under the natural impression that Pine was a burglar, had certainly +wounded him in the right arm, but it was the second shot, fired by some +one outside the house, which had pierced the heart. This was positively +proved by the distinct evidence of Lady Agnes herself. She rose from her +sick-bed to depose how she had opened her window, and had seen the +actual death of the unfortunate man, whom she little guessed was her +husband. The burglar--as she reasonably took him to be--was running down +the path when she first caught sight of him, and after the first shot +had been fired. It was the second shot, which came from the +shrubbery--marked on the plan placed before the Coroner and jury--which +had laid the fugitive low. Also various guests and servants stated that +they had arrived in the passage in answer to Lord Garvington's outcries, +to find that he had closed the door pending their coming. Some had even +heard the second shot while descending the stairs. It was proved, +therefore, in a very positive manner, that the master of the house had +not murdered the supposed robber. + +"I never intended to kill him," declared Garvington when his evidence +was taken. "All I intended to do, and all I did do, was to wing him, so +that he might be captured on the spot, or traced later. I closed the +door after firing the shot, as I fancied that he might have had some +accomplices with him, and I wished to make myself safe until assistance +arrived." + +"You had no idea that the man was Sir Hubert Pine?" asked a juryman. + +"Certainly not. I should not have fired had I recognized him. The moment +I opened the door he flung himself upon me. I fired and he ran away. It +was not until we all went out and found him dead by the shrubbery that +I recognized my brother-in-law. I thought he was in Paris." + +Inspector Darby deposed that he had examined the shrubbery, and had +noted broken twigs here and there, which showed that some one must have +been concealed behind the screen of laurels. The grass--somewhat long in +the thicket--had been trampled. But nothing had been discovered likely +to lead to the discovery of the assassin who had been ambushed in this +manner. + +"Are there no footmarks?" questioned the Coroner. + +"There has been no rain for weeks to soften the ground," explained the +witness, "therefore it is impossible to discover any footmarks. The +broken twigs and trampled grass show that some one was hidden in the +shrubbery, but when this person left the screen of laurels, there is +nothing to show in which direction the escape was made." + +And indeed all the evidence was useless to trace the criminal. The Manor +had been bolted and barred by Lord Garvington himself, along with some +footmen and his butler, so no one within could have fired the second +shot. The evidence of Mother Cockleshell, of Chaldea, and of various +other gypsies, went to show that no one had left the camp on that night +with the exception of Hearne, and even his absence had not been made +known until the fact of the death was made public next morning. Hearne, +as several of the gypsies stated, had retired about eleven to his tent +and had said nothing about going to The Manor, much less about leaving +the camp. Silver's statements revealed nothing, since, far from seeking +his brother-in-law's house, Pine, had pointedly declared that in order +to keep his secret he would be careful not to go near the place. + +"And Pine had no enemies to my knowledge who desired his death," +declared the secretary. "We were so intimate that had his life been in +danger he certainly would have spoken about it to me." + +"You can throw no light on the darkness?" asked the Coroner hopelessly. + +"None," said the witness. "Nor, so far as I can see, is any one else +able to throw any light on the subject. Pine's secret was not a +dishonorable one, as he was such an upright man that no one could have +desired to kill him." + +Apparently there was no solution to the mystery, as every one concluded, +when the evidence was fully threshed out. An open verdict was brought +in, and the proceedings ended in this unsatisfactory manner. + +"Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown," said Lambert, +when he read the report of the inquest in his St. James's Street rooms. +"Strange. I wonder who cut the Gordian knot of the rope which bound +Agnes to Pine?" + +He could find no reply to this question, nor could any one else. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A DIFFICULT POSITION. + + +Lord Garvington was not a creditable member of the aristocracy, since +his vices greatly exceeded his virtues. With a weak nature, and the +tastes of a sybarite, he required a great deal of money to render him +happy. Like the immortal Becky Sharp, he could have been fairly honest +if possessed of a large income; but not having it he stopped short of +nothing save actual criminality in order to indulge his luxurious +tastes to the full. Candidly speaking, he had already overstepped the +mark when he altered the figures of a check his brother-in-law had given +him, and, had not Pine been so generous, he would have undoubtedly +occupied an extremely unpleasant position. However, thanks to Agnes, the +affair had been hushed up, and with characteristic promptitude, +Garvington had conveniently forgotten how nearly he had escaped the iron +grip of Justice. In fact, so entirely did it slip his memory that--on +the plea of Pine's newly discovered origin--he did not desire the body +to be placed in the family vault. But the widow wished to pay this honor +to her husband's remains, and finally got her own way in the matter, for +the simple reason that now she was the owner of Pine's millions +Garvington did not wish to offend her. But, as such a mean creature +would, he made capital out of the concession. + +"Since I do this for you, Agnes," he said bluntly, when the question was +being decided, "you must do something for me." + +"What do you wish me to do?" + +"Ah--hum--hey--ho!" gurgled Garvington, thinking cunningly that it was +too early yet to exploit her. "We can talk about it when the will has +been read, and we know exactly how we stand. Besides your grief is +sacred to me, my dear. Shut yourself up and cry." + +Agnes had a sense of humor, and the blatant hypocrisy of the speech made +her laugh outright in spite of the genuine regret she felt for her +husband's tragic death. Garvington was quite shocked. "Do you forget +that the body is yet in the house?" he asked with heavy solemnity. + +"I don't forget anything," retorted Agnes, becoming scornfully serious. +"Not even that you count on me to settle your wretched financial +difficulties out of poor Hubert's money." + +"Of course you will, my dear. You are a Lambert." + +"Undoubtedly; but I am not necessarily a fool." + +"Oh, I can't stop and hear you call yourself such a name," said +Garvington, ostentatiously dense to her true meaning. "It is hysteria +that speaks, and not my dear sister. Very natural when you are so +grieved. We are all mortal." + +"You are certainly silly in addition," replied the widow, who knew how +useless it was to argue with the man. "Go away and don't worry me. When +poor Hubert is buried, and the will is read, I shall announce my +intentions." + +"Intentions! Intentions!" muttered the corpulent little lord, taking a +hasty departure out of diplomacy. "Surely, Agnes won't be such a fool as +to let the family estates go." + +It never struck him that Pine might have so worded the will that the +inheritance he counted upon might not come to the widow, unless she +chose to fulfil a certain condition. But then he never guessed the +jealousy with which the hot-blooded gypsy had regarded the early +engagement of Agnes and Lambert. If he had done so, he assuredly would +not have invited the young man down to the funeral. But he did so, and +talked about doing so, with a frequent mention that the body was to rest +in the sacred vault of the Lamberts so that every one should applaud his +generous humility. + +"Poor Pine was only a gypsy," said Garvington, on all and every +occasion. "But I esteemed him as a good and honest man. He shall have +every honor shown to his memory. Noel and I, as representatives of his +wife, my dear sister, shall follow him to the Lambert vault, and there, +with my ancestors, the body of this honorable, though humble, man shall +rest until the Day of Judgment." + +A cynic in London laughed when the speech was reported to him. "If +Garvington is buried in the same vault," he said contemptuously, "he +will ask Pine for money, as soon as they rise to attend the Great +Assizes!" which bitter remark showed that the little man could not +induce people to believe him so disinterested as he should have liked +them to consider him. + +However, in pursuance of this artful policy, he certainly gave the dead +man, what the landlady of the village inn called, "a dressy funeral." +All that could be done in the way of pomp and ceremony was done, and the +procession which followed Ishmael Hearne to the grave was an +extraordinarily long one. The villagers came because, like all the lower +orders, they loved the excitement of an interment; the gypsies from the +camp followed, since the deceased was of their blood; and many people in +financial and social circles came down from London for the obvious +reason that Pine was a well-known figure in the City and the West End, +and also a member of Parliament. As for Lambert, he put in an +appearance, in response to his cousin's invitation, unwillingly enough, +but in order to convince Agnes that he had every desire to obey her +commands. People could scarcely think that Pine had been jealous of the +early engagement to Agnes, when her former lover attended the funeral of +a successful rival. + +Of course, the house party at The Manor had broken up immediately after +the inquest. It would have disintegrated before only that Inspector +Darby insisted that every one should remain for examination in +connection with the late tragical occurrence. But in spite of +questioning and cross-questioning, nothing had been learned likely to +show who had murdered the millionaire. There was a great deal of talk +after the body had been placed in the Lambert vault, and there was more +talk in the newspapers when an account was given of the funeral. But +neither by word of mouth, nor in print, was any suggestion made likely +to afford the slightest clue to the name or the whereabouts of the +assassin. Having regard to Pine's romantic career, it was thought by +some that the act was one of revenge by a gypsy jealous that the man +should attain to such affluence, while others hinted that the motive +for the crime was to be found in connection with the millionaire's +career as a Gentile. Gradually, as all conjecture proved futile, the +gossip died away, and other events usurped the interest of the public. +Pine, who was really Hearne, had been murdered and buried; his assassin +would never be discovered, since the trail was too well hidden; and Lady +Agnes inherited at least two millions on which she would probably marry +her cousin and so restore the tarnished splendors of the Lambert family. +In this way the situation was summed up by the gossips, and then they +began to talk of something else. The tragedy was only a nine minutes' +wonder after all. + +The gossips both in town and country were certainly right in assuming +that the widow inherited the vast property of her deceased husband. But +what they did not know was that a condition attached to such inheritance +irritated Agnes and caused Garvington unfeigned alarm. Pine's +solicitor--he was called Jarwin and came from a stuffy little office in +Chancery Lane--called Garvington aside, when the mourners returned from +the funeral, and asked that the reading of the will might be confined to +a few people whom he named. + +"There is a condition laid down by the testator which need not be made +public," said Mr. Jarwin blandly. "A proposition which, if possible, +must be kept out of print." + +Garvington, with a sudden recollection of his iniquity in connection +with the falsified check, did not dare to ask questions, but hastily +summoned the people named by the lawyer. As these were the widow, Lady +Garvington, himself, and his cousin Noel, the little man had no fear of +what might be forthcoming, since with relatives there could be no risk +of betrayal. All the same, he waited for the reading of the will with +some perturbation, for the suggested secrecy hinted at some posthumous +revenge on the part of the dead man. And, hardened as he was, Garvington +did not wish his wife and Lambert to become acquainted with his +delinquency. He was, of course, unaware that the latter knew about it +through Agnes, and knew also how it had been used to coerce her--for the +pressure amounted to coercion--into a loveless marriage. + +The quintette assembled in a small room near the library, and when the +door and window were closed there was no chance that any one would +overhear the conference. Lambert was rather puzzled to know why he had +been requested to be present, as he had no idea that Pine would mention +him in the will. However, he had not long to wait before he learned the +reason, for the document produced by Mr. Jarwin was singularly short and +concise. Pine had never been a great speaker, and carried his reticence +into his testamentary disposition. Five minutes was sufficient for the +reading of the will, and those present learned that all real and +personal property had been left unreservedly to Agnes Pine, the widow of +the testator, on condition that she did _not_ marry Noel Tamsworth +Leighton Lambert. If she did so, the money was to pass to a certain +person, whose name was mentioned in a sealed envelope held by Mr. +Jarwin. This was only to be opened when Agnes Pine formally relinquished +her claim to the estate by marrying Noel Lambert. Seeing that the will +disposed of two millions sterling, it was a remarkably abrupt document, +and the reading of it took the hearers' breath away. + +Garvington, relieved from the fears of his guilty conscience, was the +first to recover his power of speech. He looked at the lean, dry lawyer, +and demanded fiercely if no legacy had been left to him. "Surely Pine +did not forget me?" he lamented, with more temper than sorrow. + +"You have heard the will," said Mr. Jarwin, folding up the single sheet +of legal paper on which the testament was inscribed. + +"There are no legacies." + +"None at all." + +"Hasn't Pine remembered Silver?" + +"He has remembered nothing and no one save Lady Agnes." Jarwin bowed to +the silent widow, who could not trust herself to speak, so angered was +she by the cruel way in which her husband had shown his jealousy. + +"It's all very dreadful and very disagreeable," said Lady Garvington in +her weak and inconsequent way. "I'm sure I was always nice to Hubert and +he might have left me a few shillings to get clothes. Everything goes in +cooks and food and--" + +"Hold your tongue, Jane," struck in her husband crossly. "You're always +thinking of frocks and frills. But I agree with you this will is +dreadful. I am not going to sit under such a beastly sell you know," he +added, turning to Jarwin. "I shall contest the will." + +The lawyer coughed dryly and smiled. "As you are not mentioned in the +testament, Lord Garvington, I fail to see what you can do." + +"Hum! hum! hum!" Garvington was rather disconcerted. "But Agnes can +fight it." + +"Why should I?" questioned the widow, who was very pale and very quiet. + +"Why should you?" blustered her brother. "It prevents your marrying +again." + +"Pardon me, it does not," corrected Mr. Jarwin, with another dry cough. +"Lady Agnes can marry any one she chooses to, save--" His eyes rested on +the calm and watchful face of Lambert. + +The young man colored, and glancing at Agnes, was about to speak. But on +second thoughts he checked himself, as he did not wish to add to the +embarrassment of the scene. It was the widow who replied. "Did Sir +Hubert tell you why he made such a provision?" she asked, striving to +preserve her calmness, which was difficult under the circumstances. + +"Why, no," said Jarwin, nursing his chin reflectively. "Sir Hubert was +always of a reticent disposition. He simply instructed me to draw up the +will you have heard, and gave me no explanation. Everything is in order, +and I am at your service, madam, whenever you choose to send for me." + +"But suppose I marry Mr. Lambert--" + +"Agnes, you won't be such a fool!" shouted her brother, growing so +scarlet that he seemed to be on the point of an apoplectic fit. + +She turned on him with a look, which reduced him to silence, but +carefully avoided the eyes of the cousin. "Suppose I marry Mr. Lambert?" +she asked again. + +"In that case you will lose the money," replied Jarwin, slightly weary +of so obvious an answer having to be made. "You have heard the will." + +"Who gets the money then?" + +This was another ridiculous question, as Jarwin, and not without reason, +considered. + +"Would you like me to read the will again?" he asked sarcastically. + +"No. I am aware of what it contains." + +"In that case, you must know, madam, that the money goes to a certain +person whose name is mentioned in a sealed envelope, now in my office +safe." + +"Who is the person?" demanded Garvington, with a gleam of hope that Pine +might have made him the legatee. + +"I do not know, my lord. Sir Hubert Pine wrote down the name and +address, sealed the envelope, and gave it into my charge. It can only be +opened when the ceremony of marriage takes place between--" he bowed +again to Lady Agnes and this time also to Lambert. + +"Pine must have been insane," said Garvington, fuming. "He disguises +himself as a gypsy, and comes to burgle my house, and makes a silly will +which ought to be upset." + +"Sir Hubert never struck me as insane," retorted Jarwin, putting the +disputed will into his black leather bag. "A man who can make two +million pounds in so short a space of time can scarcely be called +crazy." + +"But this masquerading as a gypsy and a burglar," urged Garvington +irritably. + +"He was actually a gypsy, remember, my lord, and it was natural that he +should wish occasionally to get back to the life he loved. As to his +being a burglar, I venture to disagree with you. He had some reason to +visit this house at the hour and in the manner he did, and doubtless if +he had lived he would have explained. But whatever might have been his +motive, Lord Garvington, I am certain it was not connected with +robbery." + +"Well," snapped the fat little man candidly, "if I had known that Pine +was such a blighter as to leave me nothing, I'm hanged if I'd have +allowed him to be buried in such decent company." + +"Freddy, Freddy, the poor man is dead. Let him rest," said Lady +Garvington, who looked more limp and untidy than ever. + +"I wish he was resting somewhere else than in my vault. A damned +gypsy!" + +"And my husband," said Lady Agnes sharply. "Don't forget that, +Garvington." + +"I wish I could forget it. Much use he has been to us." + +"_You_ have no cause to complain," said his sister with a meaning +glance, and Garvington suddenly subsided. + +"Won't you say something, Noel?" asked Lady Garvington dismally. + +"I don't see what there is to say," he rejoined, not lifting his eyes +from the ground. + +"There you are wrong," remarked Agnes with a sudden flush. "There is a +very great deal to say, but this is not the place to say it. Mr. +Jarwin," she rose to her feet, looking a queenly figure in her long +black robes, "you can return to town and later will receive my +instructions." + +The lawyer looked hard at her marble face, wondering whether she would +choose the lover or the money. It was a hard choice, and a very +difficult position. He could not read in her eyes what she intended to +do, so mutely bowed and took a ceremonious departure, paying a silent +tribute to the widow's strength of mind. "Poor thing; poor thing," +thought the solicitor, "I believe she loves her cousin. It is hard that +she can only marry him at the cost of becoming a pauper. A difficult +position for her, indeed. H'm! she'll hold on to the money, of course; +no woman would be such a fool as to pay two millions sterling for a +husband." + +In relation to nine women out of ten, this view would have been a +reasonable one to take, but Agnes happened to be the tenth, who had the +singular taste--madness some would have called it--to prefer love to +hard cash. Still, she made no hasty decision, seeing that the issues +involved in her renunciation were so great. Garvington, showing a +characteristic want of tact, began to argue the question almost the +moment Jarwin drove away from The Manor, but his sister promptly +declined to enter into any discussion. + +"You and Jane can go away," said she, cutting him short. "I wish to have +a private conversation with Noel." + +"For heaven's sake don't give up the money," whispered Garvington in an +agonized tone when at the door. + +"I sold myself once to help the family," she replied in the same low +voice; "but I am not so sure that I am ready to do so twice." + +"Quite right, dear," said Lady Garvington, patting the widow's hand. "It +is better to have love than money. Besides, it only means that Freddy +will have to give up eating rich dinners which don't agree with him." + +"Come away, you fool!" cried Freddy, exasperated, and, seizing her arm, +he drew her out of the room, growling like a sick bear. + +Agnes closed the door, and returned to look at Lambert, who still +continued to stare at the carpet with folded arms. "Well?" she demanded +sharply. + +"Well?" he replied in the same tone, and without raising his eyes. + +"Is that all you have to say, Noel?" + +"I don't see what else I can say. Pine evidently guessed that we loved +one another, although heaven knows that our affection has been innocent +enough, and has taken this way to part us forever." + +"Will it part us forever?" + +"I think so. As an honorable man, and one who loves you dearly, I can't +expect you to give up two millions for the sake of love in a cottage +with me. It is asking too much." + +"Not when a woman loves a man as I love you." + +This time Lambert did look up, and his eyes flashed with surprise and +delight. "Agnes, you don't mean to say that you would--" + +She cut him short by sitting down beside him and taking his hand. "I +would rather live on a crust with you in the Abbot's Wood Cottage than +in Park Lane a lonely woman with ample wealth." + +"You needn't remain lonely long," said Lambert moodily. "Pine's will +does not forbid you to marry any one else." + +"Do I deserve that answer, Noel, after what I have just said?" + +"No, dear, no." He pressed her hand warmly. "But you must make some +allowance for my feelings. It is right that a man should sacrifice all +for a woman, but that a woman should give up everything for a man seems +wrong." + +"Many women do, if they love truly as I do." + +"But, Agnes, think what people will say about me." + +"That will be your share of the sacrifice," she replied promptly. "If I +do this, you must do that. There is no difficulty when the matter is +looked on in that light. But there is a graver question to be answered." + +Lambert looked at her in a questioning manner and read the answer in her +eyes. "You mean about the property of the family?" + +"Yes." Agnes heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I wish I had been born a +village girl rather than the daughter of a great house. Rank has its +obligations, Noel. I recognized that before, and therefore married +Hubert. He was a good, kind man, and, save that I lost you, I had no +reason to regret becoming his wife. But I did not think that he would +have put such an insult on me." + +"Insult, dear?" Lambert flushed hotly. + +"What else can you call this forbidding me to marry you? The will is +certain to be filed at Somerset House, and the contents will be made +known to the public in the usual way, through the newspapers. Then what +will people say, Noel? Why, that I became Hubert's wife in order to get +his money, since, knowing that he was consumptive, I hoped he would soon +die, and that as a rich widow I could console myself with you. They will +chuckle to see how my scheme has been overturned by the will." + +"But you made no such scheme." + +"Of course not. Still, everyone will credit me with having done so. +As a woman, who has been insulted, and by a man who has no reason to +mistrust me, I feel inclined to renounce the money and marry you, if +only to show how I despise the millions. But as a Lambert I must think +again of the family as I thought before. The only question is, whether +it is wise to place duty above love for the second time, considering the +misery we have endured, and the small thanks we have received for our +self-denial?" + +"Surely Garvington's estates are free by now?" + +"No; they are not. Hubert, as I told you when we spoke in the cottage, +paid off many mortgages, but retained possession of them. He did not +charge Garvington any interest, and let him have the income of the +mortgaged land. No one could have behaved better than Hubert did, until +my brother's demands became so outrageous that it was impossible to go +on lending and giving him money. Hubert did not trust him so far as to +give back the mortgages, so these will form a portion of his estate. As +that belongs to me, I can settle everything with ease, and place +Garvington in an entirely satisfactory condition. But I do that at the +cost of losing you, dear. Should the estates pass to this unknown +person, the mortgages would be foreclosed, and our family would be +ruined." + +"Are things as bad as that?" + +"Every bit as bad. Hubert told me plainly how matters stood. For +generations the heads of the family have been squandering money. Freddy +is just as bad as the rest, and, moreover, has no head for figures. He +does not know the value of money, never having been in want of it. But +if everything was sold up--and it must be if I marry you and lose the +millions--he will be left without an acre of land and only three hundred +a year." + +"Oh, the devil!" Lambert jumped up and began to walk up and down the +room with a startled air. "That would finish the Lambert family with a +vengeance, Agnes. What do you wish me to do?" he asked, after a pause. + +"Wait," she said quietly. + +"Wait? For what--the Deluge?" + +"It won't come while I hold the money. I have a good business head, and +Hubert taught me how to deal with financial matters. I could not give +him love, but I did give him every attention, and I believe that I was +able to help him in some ways. I shall utilize my experience to see the +family lawyer and go into matters thoroughly. Then we shall know for +certain if things are as bad as Hubert made out. If they are, I must +sacrifice you and myself for the sake of our name; if they are not--" + +"Well?" asked Lambert, seeing how she hesitated. Agnes crossed the room +and placed her arms round his neck with a lovely color tinting her wan +cheeks. "Dear," she whispered, "I shall marry you. In doing so I am not +disloyal to Hubert's memory, since I have always loved you, and he +accepted me as his wife on the understanding that I could not give him +my heart. And now that he has insulted me," she drew back, and her eyes +flashed, "I feel free to become your wife." + +"I see," Lambert nodded. "We must wait?" + +"We must wait. Duty comes before love. But I trust that the sacrifice +will not be necessary. Good-bye, dear," and she kissed him. + +"Good-bye," repeated Lambert, returning the kiss. Then they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +BLACKMAIL. + + +Having come to the only possible arrangement, consistent with the +difficult position in which they stood, Lambert and Lady Agnes took +their almost immediate departure from The Manor. The young man had +merely come to stay there in response to his cousin's request, so that +his avoidance of her should not be too marked, and the suspicions of +Pine excited. Now that the man was dead, there was no need to behave in +this judicious way, and having no great love for Garvington, whom he +thoroughly despised, Lambert returned to his forest cottage. There he +busied himself once more with his art, and waited patiently to see what +the final decision of Agnes would be. He did not expect to hear for some +weeks, or even months, as the affairs of Garvington, being very much +involved, could not be understood in a moment. But the lovers, parted by +a strict sense of duty, eased their minds by writing weekly letters to +one another. + +Needless to say, Garvington did not at all approve of the decision of +his sister, which she duly communicated to him. He disliked Lambert, +both as the next heir to the estates, and because he was a more popular +man than himself. Even had Pine not prohibited the marriage in his will, +Garvington would have objected to Agnes becoming the young man's wife; +as it was, he stormed tempests, but without changing the widow's +determination. Being a remarkably selfish creature, all he desired was +that Agnes should live a solitary life as a kind of banker, to supply +him with money whenever he chose to ask for the same. Pine he had not +been able to manage, but he felt quite sure that he could bully his +sister into doing what he wanted. It both enraged and surprised him to +find that she had a will of her own and was not content to obey his +egotistical orders. Agnes would not even remain under his roof--as he +wanted her to, lest some other person should get hold of her and the +desirable millions--but returned to her London house. The only comfort +he had was that Lambert was not with her, and therefore--as he devoutly +hoped--she would meet some man who would cause her to forget the Abbot's +Wood recluse. So long as Agnes retained the money, Garvington did not +particularly object to her marrying, as he always hoped to cajole and +bully ready cash out of her, but he would have preferred had she +remained single, as then she could be more easily plundered. + +"And yet I don't know," he said to his long-suffering wife. "While she's +a widow there's always the chance that she may take the bit between her +teeth and marry Noel, in which case she loses everything. It will be as +well to get her married." + +"You will have no selection of the husband this time," said Lady +Garvington, whose sympathies were entirely for Agnes. "She will choose +for herself." + +"Let her," retorted Garvington, with feigned generosity. "So long as she +does not choose Noel; hang him!" + +"He's the very man she will choose;" replied his wife, and Garvington, +uneasily conscious that she was probably right, cursed freely all women +in general and his sister in particular. Meanwhile he went to Paris to +look after a famous chef, of whom he had heard great things, and left +his wife in London with strict injunctions to keep a watch on Agnes. + +The widow was speedily made aware of these instructions, for when Lady +Garvington came to stay with her sister-in-law at the sumptuous Mayfair +mansion, she told her hostess about the conversation. More than that, +she even pressed her to marry Noel, and be happy. + +"Money doesn't do so much, after all, when you come to think of it," +lamented Lady Garvington. "And I know you'd be happier with Noel, than +living here with all this horrid wealth." + +"What would Freddy say if he heard you talk so, Jane?" + +"I don't know what else he can say," rejoined the other reflectively. +"He's never kept his temper or held his tongue with me. His liver is +nearly always out of order with over-eating. However," she added +cheering up, "he is sure to die of apoplexy before long, and then I +shall live on tea and buns for the rest of my life. I simply hate the +sight of a dinner table." + +"Freddy isn't a pretty sight during a meal," admitted his sister with a +shrug. "All the same you shouldn't wish him dead, Jane. You might have a +worse husband." + +"I'd rather have a profligate than a glutton, Agnes. But Freddy won't +die, my dear. He'll go to Wiesbaden, or Vichy, or Schwalbach, and take +the waters to get thin; then he'll return to eat himself to the size of +a prize pig again. But thank goodness," said Lady Garvington, cheering +up once more, "he's away for a few weeks, and we can enjoy ourselves. +But do let us have plain joints and no sauces, Agnes." + +"Oh, you can live on bread and water if you choose," said the widow +good-humoredly. "It's a pity I am in mourning, as I can't take you out +much. But the motor is always at your disposal, and I can give you all +the money you want. Get a few dresses--" + +"And hats, and boots, and shoes, and--and--oh, I don't know what else. +You're a dear, Agnes, and although I don't want to ruin you, I do want +heaps of things. I'm in rags, as Freddy eats up our entire income." + +"You can't ruin a woman with two millions, Jane. Get what you require +and I'll pay. I am only too glad to give you some pleasure, since I +can't attend to you as I ought to. But you see, nearly three times a +week I have to consult the lawyers about settling Freddy's affairs." + +On these conditions four or five weeks passed away very happily for the +two women. Lady Garvington certainly had the time of her life, and +regained a portion of her lost youth. She revelled in shopping, went in +a quiet way to theatres, patronized skating rinks, and even attended one +or two small winter dances. And to her joy, she met with a nice young +man, who was earnestly in pursuit of a new religion, which involved much +fasting and occasional vegetarian meals. He taught her to eat nuts, and +eschew meats, talking meanwhile of the psychic powers which such +abstemiousness would develop in her. Of course Lady Garvington did not +overdo this asceticism, but she was thankful to meet a man who had not +read Beeton's Cookery Book. Besides, he flirted quite nicely. + +Agnes, pleased to see her sister-in-law enjoying life, gave her +attention to Garvington's affairs, and found them in a woeful mess. It +really did appear as if she would have to save the Lambert family from +ever-lasting disgrace, and from being entirely submerged, by keeping +hold of her millions. But she did not lose heart, and worked on bravely +in the hope that an adjustment would save a few thousand a year for +Freddy, without touching any of Pine's money. If she could manage to +secure him a sufficient income to keep up the title, and to prevent the +sale of The Manor in Hengishire, she then intended to surrender her +husband's wealth and retire to a country life with Noel as her husband. + +"He can paint and I can look after the cottage along with Mrs. Tribb," +she told Mrs. Belgrove, who called to see her one day, more painted and +dyed and padded and tastefully dressed than ever. "We can keep fowls and +things, you know," she added vaguely. + +"Quite an idyl," tittered the visitor, and then went away to tell her +friends that Lady Agnes must have been in love with her cousin all the +time. And as the contents of the will were now generally known, every +one agreed that the woman was a fool to give up wealth for a dull +existence in the woods. "All the same it's very sweet," sighed Mrs. +Belgrove, having made as much mischief as she possibly could. "I should +like it myself if I could only dress as a Watteau shepherdess, you know, +and carry a lamb with a blue ribbon round its dear neck." + +Of course, Lady Agnes heard nothing of this ill-natured chatter, since +she did not go into society during her period of mourning, and received +only a few of her most intimate friends. Moreover, besides attending to +Garvington's affairs, it was necessary that she should have frequent +consultations with Mr. Jarwin in his stuffy Chancery Lane office, +relative to the large fortune left by her late husband. There, on three +occasions she met Silver, the ex-secretary, when he came to explain +various matters to the solicitor. With the consent of Lady Agnes, the +man had been discharged, when Jarvin took over the management of the +millions, but having a thorough knowledge of Pine's financial dealings, +it was necessary that he should be questioned every now and then. + +Silver was rather sulky over his abrupt dismissal, but cunningly +concealed his real feelings when in the presence of the widow, since she +was too opulent a person to offend. It was Silver who suggested that a +reward should be offered for the detection of Pine's assassin. Lady +Agnes approved of the idea, and indeed was somewhat shocked that she had +not thought of taking this course herself. Therefore, within seven days +every police office in the United Kingdom was placarded with bills, +stating that the sum of one thousand pounds would be given to the person +or persons who should denounce the culprit. The amount offered caused +quite a flutter of excitement, and public interest in the case was +revived for nearly a fortnight. At the conclusion of that period, as +nothing fresh was discovered, people ceased to discuss the matter. It +seemed as though the reward, large as it was, would never be claimed. + +But having regard to the fact that Silver was interesting himself in the +endeavor to avenge his patron's death, Lady Agnes was not at all +surprised to receive a visit from him one foggy November afternoon. She +certainly did not care much for the little man, but feeling dull and +somewhat lonely, she quite welcomed his visit. Lady Garvington had gone +with her ascetic admirer to a lecture on "Souls and Sorrows!" therefore +Agnes had a spare hour for the ex-secretary. He was shown into her own +particular private sitting-room, and she welcomed him with studied +politeness, for try as she might it was impossible for her to overcome +her mistrust. + +"Good-day, Mr. Silver," she said, when he bowed before her. "This is an +unexpected visit. Won't you be seated?" + +Silver accepted her offer of a chair with an air of demure shyness, and +sitting on its edge stared at her rather hard. He looked neat and dapper +in his Bond Street kit, and for a man who had started life as a +Whitechapel toymaker, his manners were inoffensive. While Pine's +secretary he had contrived to pick up hints in the way of social +behavior, and undoubtedly he was clever, since he so readily adapted +himself to his surroundings. He was not a gentleman, but he looked like +a gentleman, and therein lay a subtle difference as Lady Agnes decided. +She unconsciously in her manner, affable as it was, suggested the gulf +between them, and Silver, quickly contacting the atmosphere, did not +love her any the more for the hint. + +Nevertheless, he admired her statuesque beauty, the fairness of which +was accentuated by her sombre dress. Blinking like a well-fed cat, +Silver stared at his hostess, and she looked questioningly at him. With +his foxy face, his reddish hair, and suave manners, too careful to be +natural, he more than ever impressed her with the idea that he was a +dangerous man. Yet she could not see in what way he could reveal his +malignant disposition. + +"What do you wish to see me about, Mr. Silver?" she asked kindly, but +did not--as he swiftly noticed--offer him a cup of tea, although it was +close upon five o'clock. + +"I have come to place my services at your disposal," he said in a low +voice. + +"Really, I am not aware that I need them," replied Lady Agnes coldly, +and not at all anxious to accept the offer. + +"I think," said Silver dryly, and clearing his throat, "that when you +hear what I have to say you will be glad that I have come." + +"Indeed! Will you be good enough to speak plainer?" + +She colored hotly when she asked the question, as it struck her suddenly +that perhaps this plotter knew of Garvington's slip regarding the check. +But as that had been burnt by Pine at the time of her marriage, she +reflected that even if Silver knew about it, he could do nothing. +Unless, and it was this thought that made her turn red, Garvington had +again risked contact with the criminal courts. The idea was not a +pleasant one, but being a brave woman, she faced the possibility boldly. + +"Well?" she asked calmly, as he did not reply immediately. "What have +you to say?" + +"It's about Pine's death," said Silver bluntly. + +"Sir Hubert, if you please." + +"And why, Lady Agnes?" Silver raised his faint eyebrows. "We were more +like brothers than master and servant. And remember that it was by the +penny toys that I invented your husband first made money." + +"In talking to me, I prefer that you should call my late husband Sir +Hubert," insisted the widow haughtily. "What have you discovered +relative to his death?" + +Silver did not answer the question directly. "Sir Hubert, since you will +have it so, Lady Agnes, was a gypsy," he remarked carelessly. + +"That was made plain at the inquest, Mr. Silver." + +"Quite so, Lady Agnes, but there were other things not made plain on +that occasion. It was not discovered who shot him." + +"You tell me nothing new. I presume you have come to explain that you +have discovered a clew to the truth?" + +Silver raised his pale face steadily. "Would you be glad if I had?" + +"Certainly! Can you doubt it?" + +The man shirked a reply to this question also. "Sir Hubert did not treat +me over well," he observed irrelevantly. + +"I fear that has nothing to do with me, Mr. Silver." + +"And I was dimissed from my post," he went on imperturbably. + +"On Mr. Jarwin's advice," she informed him quickly. "There was no need +for you to be retained. But I believe that you were given a year's +salary in lieu of notice." + +"That is so," he admitted. "I am obliged to you and to Mr. Jarwin for +the money, although it is not a very large sum. Considering what I did +for Sir Hubert, and how he built up his fortune out of my brains, I +think that I have been treated shabbily." + +Lady Agnes rose, and moved towards the fireplace to touch the ivory +button of the electric bell. "On that point I refer you to Mr. Jarwin," +she said coldly. "This interview has lasted long enough and can lead to +nothing." + +"It may lead to something unpleasant unless you listen to me," said +Silver acidly. "I advise you not to have me turned out, Lady Agnes." + +"What do you mean?" She dropped the hand she had extended to ring the +bell, and faced the smooth-faced creature suddenly. "I don't know what +you are talking about." + +"If you will sit down, Lady Agnes, I can explain." + +"I can receive your explanation standing," said the widow, frowning. "Be +brief, please." + +"Very well. To put the matter in a nutshell, I want five thousand +pounds." + +"Five thousand pounds!" she echoed, aghast. + +"On account," said Silver blandly. "On account, Lady Agnes." + +"And for what reason?" + +"Sir Hubert was a gypsy," he said again, and with a significant look. + +"Well?" + +"He stopped at the camp near Abbot's Wood." + +"Well?" + +"There is a gypsy girl there called Chaldea." + +"Chaldea! Chaldea!" muttered the widow, passing her hand across her +brow. "I have heard that name. Oh, yes. Miss Greeby mentioned it to me +as the name of a girl who was sitting as Mr. Lambert's model." + +"Yes," assented Silver, grinning. "She is a very beautiful girl." + +The color rushed again to the woman's cheeks, but she controlled her +emotions with an effort. "So Miss Greeby told me!" She knew that the man +was hinting that Lambert admired the girl in question, but her pride +prevented her admitting the knowledge. "Chaldea is being painted as +Esmeralda to the Quasimodo of her lover, a Servian gypsy called Kara, as +I have been informed, Mr. Silver. But what has all this to do with me?" + +"Don't be in a hurry, Lady Agnes. It will take time to explain." + +"How dare you take this tone with me?" demanded the widow, clenching her +hands. "Leave the room, sir, or I shall have you turned out." + +"Oh, I shall leave since you wish it," replied Silver, rising slowly and +smoothing his silk hat with his sleeve. "But of course I shall try and +earn the reward you offered, by taking the letter to the police." + +Agnes was so surprised that she closed again the door she had opened for +her visitor's exit. "What letter?" + +"That one which was written to inveigle Sir Hubert to The Manor on the +night he was murdered," replied Silver slowly, and suddenly raising his +eyes he looked at her straightly. + +"I don't understand," she said in a puzzled way. "I have never heard +that such a letter was in existence. Where is it?" + +"Chaldea has it, and will not give it up unless she receives five +thousand pounds," answered the man glibly. "Give it to me and it passes +into your possession, Lady Agnes." + +"Give you what?" + +"Five thousand pounds--on account." + +"On account of blackmail. How dare you make such a proposition to me?" + +"You know," said Silver pointedly. + +"I know nothing. It is the first time I have heard of any letter. Who +wrote it, may I ask?" + +"You know," said Silver again. + +Lady Agnes was so insulted by his triumphant look that she could have +struck his grinning face. However, she had too strong a nature to lower +herself in this way, and pointed to a chair. "Let me ask you a few +questions, Mr. Silver," she said imperiously. + +"Oh, I am quite ready to answer whatever you choose to ask," he +retorted, taking his seat again and secretly surprised at her +self-control. + +"You say that Chaldea holds a letter which inveigled my husband to his +death?" demanded Lady Agnes coolly. + +"Yes. And she wants five thousand pounds for it." + +"Why doesn't she give it to the police?" + +"One thousand pounds is not enough for the letter. It is worth more--to +some people," and Silver raised his pale eyes again. + +"To me, I presume you mean;" then when he bowed, she continued her +examination. "The five thousand pounds you intimate is on account, yet +you say that Chaldea will deliver the letter for that sum." + +"To me," rejoined the ex-secretary impudently. "And when it is in my +possession, I can give it to you for twenty thousand pounds." + +Lady Agnes laughed in his face. "I am too good a business woman to make +such a bargain," she said with a shrug. + +"Well, you know best," replied Silver, imitating her shrug. + +"I know nothing; I am quite in the dark as to the reason for your +blackmailing, Mr. Silver." + +"That is a nasty word, Lady Agnes." + +"It is the only word which seems to suit the situation. Why should I +give twenty-five thousand pounds for this letter?" + +"Its production will place the police on the track of the assassin." + +"And is not that what I desire? Why did I offer a reward of one thousand +pounds if I did not hope that the wretch who murdered my husband should +be brought to justice?" + +Silver exhibited unfeigned surprise. "You wish that?" + +"Certainly I do. Where was this letter discovered?" + +"Chaldea went to the tent of your husband in the camp and found it in +the pocket of his coat. He apparently left it behind by mistake when he +went to watch." + +"Watch?" + +"Yes! The letter stated that you intended to elope that night with Mr. +Lambert, and would leave the house by the blue door. Sir Hubert went to +watch and prevent the elopement. In that way he came by his death, since +Lord Garvington threatened to shoot a possible burglar. Of course, Sir +Hubert, when the blue door was opened by Lord Garvington, who had heard +the footsteps of the supposed burglar, threw himself forward, thinking +you were coming out to meet Mr. Lambert. Sir Hubert was first shot in +the arm by Lord Garvington, who really believed for the moment that he +had to do with a robber. But the second shot," ended Silver with +emphasis, "was fired by a person concealed in the shrubbery, who knew +that Sir Hubert would walk into the trap laid by the letter." + +During this amazing recital, Lady Agnes, with her eyes on the man's +face, and her hands clasped in sheer surprise, had sat down on a near +couch. She could scarcely believe her ears. "Is this true?" she asked in +a faltering voice. + +Silver shrugged his shoulders again. "The letter held by Chaldea +certainly set the snare in which Sir Hubert was caught. Unless the +person in the shrubbery knew about the letter, the person would scarcely +have been concealed there with a revolver. I know about the letter for +certain, since Chaldea showed it to me, when I went to ask questions +about the murder in the hope of gaining the reward. The rest of my story +is theoretical." + +"Who was the person who fired the shot?" asked Lady Agnes abruptly. + +"I don't know." + +"Who wrote the letter which set the snare?" + +Silver shuffled. "Chaldea loves Mr. Lambert," he said hesitating. + +"Go on," ordered the widow coldly and retaining her self-control. + +"She is jealous of you, Lady Agnes, because--" + +"There is no reason to explain," interrupted the listener between her +teeth. + +"Well, then, Chaldea hating you, says that you wrote the letter." + +"Oh, indeed." Lady Agnes replied calmly enough, although her conflicting +emotions almost suffocated her. "Then I take it that this gypsy declares +me to be a murderess." + +"Oh, I shouldn't say that exactly." + +"I do say it," cried Lady Agnes, rising fiercely. "If I wrote the +letter, and set the snare, I must necessarily know that some one was +hiding in the shrubbery to shoot my husband. It is an abominable lie +from start to finish." + +"I am glad to hear you say so. But the letter?" + +"The police will deal with that." + +"The police? You will let Chaldea give the letter to the police?" + +"I am innocent and have no fear of the police. Your attempt to +blackmail me has failed, Mr. Silver." + +"Be wise and take time for reflection," he urged, walking towards the +door, "for I have seen this letter, and it is in your handwriting." + +"I never wrote such a letter." + +"Then who did--in your handwriting?" + +"Perhaps you did yourself, Mr. Silver, since you are trying to blackmail +me in this bareface way." + +Silver snarled and gave her an ugly look. "I did no such thing," he +retorted vehemently, and, as it seemed, honestly enough. "I had every +reason to wish that Sir Hubert should live, since my income and my +position depended upon his existence. But you--" + +"What about me?" demanded Lady Agnes, taking so sudden a step forward +that the little man retreated nearer the door. + +"People say--" + +"I know what people say and what you are about to repeat," she said in a +stifled voice. "You can tell the girl to take that forged letter to the +police. I am quite able to face any inquiry." + +"Is Mr. Lambert also able?" + +"Mr. Lambert?" Agnes felt as though she would choke. + +"He was at his cottage on that night." + +"I deny that; he went to London." + +"Chaldea can prove that he was at his cottage, and--" + +"You had better go," said Lady Agnes, turning white and looking +dangerous. "Go, before you say what you may be sorry for. I shall tell +Mr. Lambert the story you have told me, and let him deal with the +matter." + +Silver threw off the mask, as he was enraged she should so boldly +withstand his demands. "I give you one week," he said harshly. "And, if +you do not pay me twenty-five thousand pounds, that letter goes to the +inspector at Wanbury." + +"It can go now," she declared dauntlessly. + +"In that case you and Mr. Lambert will be arrested at once." + +Agnes gripped the man's arm as he was about to step through the door. "I +take your week of grace," she said with a sudden impulse of wisdom. + +"I thought you would," retorted Silver insultingly. "But remember I must +get the money at the end of seven days. It's twenty-five thousand pounds +for me, or disgrace to you," and with an abrupt nod he disappeared +sneering. + +"Twenty-five thousand pounds or disgrace," whispered Agnes to herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE CONSPIRACY. + + +It was lucky that Lambert did not know of the ordeal to which Agnes had +to submit, unaided, since he was having a most unhappy time himself. In +a sketching expedition he had caught a chill, which had developed once +more a malarial fever, contracted in the Congo marshes some years +previously. Whenever his constitution weakened, this ague fit would +reappear, and for days, sometimes weeks, he would shiver with cold, and +alternately burn with fever. As the autumn mists were hanging round the +leafless Abbot's Wood, it was injudicious of him to sit in the open, +however warmly clothed, seeing that he was predisposed to disease. But +his desire for the society of the woman he loved, and the hopelessness +of the outlook, rendered him reckless, and he was more often out of +doors than in. The result was that when Agnes came down to relate the +interview with Silver, she found him in his sitting-room swathed in +blankets, and reclining in an arm-chair placed as closely to a large +wood fire as was possible. He was very ill indeed, poor man, and she +uttered an exclamation when she saw his wan cheeks and hollow eyes. +Lambert was now as weak as he had been strong, and with the mothering +instinct of a woman, she rushed forward to kneel beside his chair. + +"My dear, my dear, why did you not send for me?" she wailed, keeping +back her tears with an effort. + +"Oh, I'm all right, Agnes," he answered cheerfully, and fondly clasping +her hand. "Mrs. Tribb is nursing me capitally." + +"I'm doing my best," said the rosy-faced little housekeeper, who stood +at the door with her podgy hands primly folded over her apron. "Plenty +of bed and food is what I give Master Noel; but bless you, my lady, he +won't stay between the blankets, being always a worrit from a boy." + +"It seems to me that I am very much between the blankets now," murmured +Lambert in a tired voice, and with a glance at his swathed limbs. "Go +away, Mrs. Tribb, and get Lady Agnes something to eat." + +"I only want a cup of tea," said Agnes, looking anxiously into her +lover's bluish-tinted face. "I'm not hungry." + +Mrs. Tribb took a long look at the visitor and pursed up her lips, as +she shook her head. "Hungry you mayn't be, my lady, but food you must +have, and that of the most nourishing and delicate. You look almost as +much a corpse as Master Noel there." + +"Yes, Agnes, you do seem to be ill," said Lambert with a startled +glance at her deadly white face, and at the dark circles under her eyes. +"What is the matter, dear?" + +"Nothing! Nothing! Don't worry." + +Mrs. Tribb still continued to shake her head, and, to vary the movement, +nodded like a Chinese mandarin. "You ain't looked after proper, my lady, +for all your fine London servants, who ain't to be trusted, nohow, +having neither hands to do nor hearts to feel for them as wants comforts +and attentions. I remember you, my lady, a blooming young rose of a gal, +and now sheets ain't nothing to your complexion. But rose you shall be +again, my lady, if wine and food can do what they're meant to do. Tea +you shan't have, nohow, but a glass or two of burgundy, and a plate of +patty-foo-grass sandwiches, and later a bowl of strong beef tea with +port wine to strengthen the same," and Mrs. Tribb, with a determined +look on her face, went away to prepare these delicacies. + +"My dear! my dear!" murmured Agnes again when the door closed. "You +should have sent for me." + +"Nonsense," answered Lambert, smoothing her hair. "I'm not a child to +cry out at the least scratch. It's only an attack of my old malarial +fever, and I shall be all right in a few days." + +"Not a few of these days," said Agnes, looking out of the window at the +gaunt, dripping trees and gray sky and melancholy monoliths. "You ought +to come to London and see the doctor." + +"Had I come, I should have had to pay you a visit, and I thought that +you did not wish me to, until things were adjusted." + +Agnes drew back, and, kneeling before the fire, spread out her hands to +the blaze. "Will they ever be adjusted?" she asked herself despairingly, +but did not say so aloud, as she was unwilling to worry the sick man. +"Well, I only came down to The Manor for a few days," she said aloud, +and in a most cheerful manner. "Jane wants to get the house in order +for Garvington, who returns from Paris in a week." + +"Agnes! Agnes!" Lambert shook his head. "You are not telling me the +truth. I know you too well, my dear." + +"I really am staying with Jane at The Manor," she persisted. + +"Oh, I believe that; but you are in trouble and came down to consult me." + +"Yes," she admitted faintly. "I am in great trouble. But I don't wish to +worry you while you are in this state." + +"You will worry me a great deal more by keeping silence," said Lambert, +sitting up in his chair and drawing the blankets more closely round him. +"Do not trouble about me. I'm all right. But you--" he looked at her +keenly and with a dismayed expression. "The trouble must be very great," +he remarked. + +"It may become so, Noel. It has to do with--oh, here is Mrs. Tribb!" and +she broke off hurriedly, as the housekeeper appeared with a tray. + +"Now, my lady, just you sit in that arm-chair opposite to Master Noel, +and I'll put the tray on this small stool beside you. Sandwiches and +burgundy wine, my lady, and see that you eat and drink all you can. +Walking over on this dripping day," cried Mrs. Tribb, bustling about. +"Giving yourself your death of cold, and you with carriages and horses, +and them spitting cats of motive things. You're as bad as Master Noel, +my lady. As for him, God bless him evermore, he's--" Mrs. Tribb raised +her hands to show that words failed her, and once more vanished through +the door to get ready the beef tea. + +Agnes did not want to eat, but Lambert, who quite agreed with the +kind-hearted practical housekeeper, insisted that she should do so. To +please him she took two sandwiches, and a glass of the strong red wine, +which brought color back to her cheeks in some degree. When she +finished, and had drawn her chair closer to the blaze, he smiled. + +"We are just like Darby and Joan," said Lambert, who looked much better +for her presence. "I am so glad you are here, Agnes. You are the very +best medicine I can have to make me well." + +"The idea of comparing me to anything so nasty as medicine," laughed +Agnes with an attempt at gayety. "But indeed, Noel, I wish my visit was +a pleasant one. But it is not, whatever you may say; I am in great +trouble." + +"From what--with what--in what?" stuttered Lambert, so confusedly and +anxiously that she hesitated to tell him. + +"Are you well enough to hear?" + +"Of course I am," he answered fretfully, for the suspense began to tell +on his nerves. "I would rather know the worst and face the worst than be +left to worry over these hints. Has the trouble to do with the murder?" + +"Yes. And with Mr. Silver." + +"Pine's secretary? I thought you had got rid of him?" + +"Oh, yes. Mr. Jarwin said that he was not needed, so I paid him a year's +wages instead of giving him notice, and let him go. But I have met him +once or twice at the lawyers, as he has been telling Mr. Jarwin about +poor Hubert's investments. And yesterday afternoon he came to see me." + +"What about?" + +Agnes came to the point at once, seeing that it would be better to do +so, and put an end to Lambert's suspense. "About a letter supposed to +have been written by me, as a means of luring Hubert to The Manor to be +murdered." + +Lambert's sallow and pinched face grew a deep red. "Is the man mad?" + +"He's sane enough to ask twenty-five thousand pounds for the letter," +she said in a dry tone. "There's not much madness about that request." + +"Twenty-five thousand pounds!" gasped Lambert, gripping the arms of his +chair and attempting to rise. + +"Yes. Don't get up, Noel, you are too weak." Agnes pressed him back into +the seat. "Twenty thousand for himself and five thousand for Chaldea." + +"Chaldea! Chaldea! What has she got to do with the matter?" + +"She holds the letter," said Agnes with a side-glance. "And being +jealous of me, she intends to make me suffer, unless I buy her silence +and the letter. Otherwise, according to Mr. Silver, she will show it to +the police. I have seven days, more or less, in which to make up my +mind. Either I must be blackmailed, or I must face the accusation." + +Lambert heard only one word that struck him in this speech. "Why is +Chaldea jealous of you?" he demanded angrily. + +"I think you can best answer that question, Noel." + +"I certainly can, and answer it honestly, too. Who told you about +Chaldea?" + +"Mr. Silver, for one, as I have just confessed. Clara Greeby for +another. She said that the girl was sitting to you for some picture." + +"Esmeralda and Quasimodo," replied the artist quickly. "You will find +what I have done of the picture in the next room. But this confounded +girl chose to fall in love with me, and since then I have declined to +see her. I need hardly tell you, Agnes, that I gave her no +encouragement." + +"No, dear. I never for one moment supposed that you would." + +"All the same, and in spite of my very plain speaking, she continues to +haunt me, Agnes. I have avoided her on every occasion, but she comes +daily to see Mrs. Tribb, and ask questions about my illness." + +"Then, if she comes this afternoon, you must get that letter from her," +was the reply. "I wish to see it." + +"Silver declares that you wrote it?" + +"He does. Chaldea showed it to him." + +"It is in your handwriting?" + +"So Mr. Silver declares." + +Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggled +uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints," he +said with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailed +account of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exact +words if you can remember them, Agnes." + +"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insults +easily." + +"Damn the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear." + +Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that had +passed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twice +during the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, he +longed for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have fared +badly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment. +When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes. + +"It's a conspiracy," he declared. + +"A conspiracy, Noel?" + +"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love with +me. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to do +you an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is assisting her. I will +do Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a single +penny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police. +But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has prevented +her doing so. As to this letter--" He stopped and rubbed his chin again +vexedly. + +"It must be a forgery." + +"Without doubt, but not of your handwriting, I fancy, in spite of what +this daring blackguard says. He informed you that the letter stated how +you intended to elope with me on that night, and would leave The Manor +by the blue door. Also, on the face of it, it would appear that you had +written the letter to your husband, since otherwise it would not have +been in his possession. You would not have given him such a hint had an +elopement really been arranged." + +Agnes frowned. "There was no chance of an elopement being arranged," she +observed rather coldly. + +"Of course not. You and I know as much, but I am looking at the matter +from the point of view of the person who wrote the letter. It can't be +your forged handwriting, for Pine would never have believed that you +would put him on the track as it were. No, Agnes. Depend upon it, the +letter was a warning sent by some sympathetic friend, and is probably an +anonymous one." + +Agnes nodded meditatively. "You may be right, Noel. But who wrote to +Hubert?" + +"We must see the letter and find out." + +"But if it is my forged handwriting?" + +"I don't believe it is," said Lambert decisively. "No conspirator would +be so foolish as to conduct his plot in such a way. However, Chaldea has +the letter, according to Silver, and we must make her give it up. She is +sure to be here soon, as she always comes bothering Mrs. Tribb in the +afternoon about my health. Just ring that hand-bell, Agnes." + +"Do you think Chaldea wrote the letter?" she asked, having obeyed him. + +"No. She has not the education to forge, or even to write decently." + +"Perhaps Mr. Silver--but no. I taxed him with setting the trap, and he +declared that Hubert was more benefit to him alive than dead, which is +perfectly true. Here is Mrs. Tribb, Noel." + +Lambert turned his head. "Has that gypsy been here to-day?" he asked +sharply. + +"Not yet, Master Noel, but there's no saying when she may come, for +she's always hanging round the house. I'd tar and feather her and slap +and pinch her if I had my way, say what you like, my lady. I've no +patience with gals of that free-and-easy, light-headed, +butter-won't-melt-in-your-mouth kind." + +"If she comes to-day, show her in here," said Lambert, paying little +attention to Mrs. Tribb's somewhat German speech of mouth-filling words. + +The housekeeper's black eyes twinkled, and she opened her lips, then she +shut them again, and looking at Lady Agnes in a questioning way, trotted +out of the room. It was plain that Mrs. Tribb knew of Chaldea's +admiration for her master, and could not understand why he wished her to +enter the house when Lady Agnes was present. She did not think it a wise +thing to apply fire to gunpowder, which, in her opinion, was what +Lambert was doing. + +There ensued silence for a few moments. Then Agnes, staring into the +fire, remarked in a musing manner, "I wonder who did shoot Hubert. Mr. +Silver would not have done so, as it was to his interest to keep him +alive. Do you think that to hurt me, Noel, Chaldea might have--" + +"No! No! No! It was to her interest also that Pine should live, since +she knew that I could not marry you while he was alive." + +Agnes nodded, understanding him so well that she did not need to ask +for a detailed explanation. "It could not have been any of those staying +at The Manor," she said doubtfully, "since every one was indoors and in +bed. Garvington, of course, only broke poor Hubert's arm under a +misapprehension. Who could have been the person in the shrubbery?" + +"Silver hints that I am the individual," said Lambert grimly. + +"Yes, he does," assented Lady Agnes quickly. "I declared that you were +in London, but he said that you returned on that night to this place." + +"I did, worse luck. I went to town, thinking it best to be away while +Pine was in the neighborhood, and--" + +"You knew that Hubert was a gypsy and at the camp?" interrupted Agnes in +a nervous manner, for the information startled her. + +"Yes! Chaldea told me so, when she was trying to make me fall in love +with her. I did not tell you, as I thought that you might be vexed, +although I dare say I should have done so later. However, I went to town +in order to prevent trouble, and only returned for that single night. I +went back to town next morning very early, and did not hear about the +murder until I saw a paragraph in the evening papers. Afterwards I came +down to the funeral because Garvington asked me to, and I thought that +you would like it." + +"Why did you come back on that particular night?" + +"My dear Agnes, I had no idea that Hubert would be murdered on that +especial night, so did not choose it particularly. I returned because I +had left behind a parcel of your letters to me when we were engaged. I +fancied that Chaldea might put Hubert up to searching the cottage while +I was away, and if he had found those letters he would have been more +jealous than ever, as you can easily understand." + +"No, I can't understand," flashed out Agnes sharply. "Hubert knew that +we loved one another, and that I broke the engagement to save the +family. I told him that I could not give him the affection he desired, +and he was content to marry me on those terms. The discovery of letters +written before I became his wife would not have caused trouble, since I +was always loyal to him. There was no need for you to return, and your +presence here on that night lends color to Mr. Silver's accusation." + +"But you don't believe--" + +"Certainly I don't. All the same it is awkward for both of us." + +"I think it was made purposely awkward, Agnes. Whosoever murdered Hubert +must have known of my return, and laid the trap on that night, so that I +might be implicated." + +"But who set the trap?" + +"The person who wrote that letter." + +"And who wrote the letter?" + +"That is what we have to find out from Chaldea!" + +At that moment; as if he had summoned her, the gypsy suddenly flung open +the door and walked in with a sulky expression on her dark face. At +first she had been delighted to hear that Lambert wanted to see her, but +when informed by Mrs. Tribb that Lady Agnes was with the young man, she +had lost her temper. However, the chance of seeing Lambert was too +tempting to forego, so she marched in defiantly, ready to fight with her +rival if there was an opportunity of doing so. But the Gentile lady +declined the combat, and took no more notice of the jealous gypsy than +was absolutely necessary. On her side Chaldea ostentatiously addressed +her conversation to Lambert. + +"How are you, rye?" she asked, stopping with effort in the middle of the +room, for her impulse was to rush forward and gather him to her heaving +bosom. "Have you taken drows, my precious lord?" + +"What do you mean by drows, Chaldea?" + +"Poison, no less. You look drabbed, for sure." + +"Drabbed?" + +"Poisoned. But I waste the kalo jib on you, my Gorgious. God bless you +for a sick one, say I, and that's a bad dukkerin, the which in gentle +Romany means fortune, my Gentile swell." + +"Drop talking such nonsense," said Lambert sharply, and annoyed to see +how the girl ignored the presence of Lady Agnes. "I have a few questions +to ask you about a certain letter." + +"Kushto bak to the rye, who showed it to the lady," said Chaldea, +tossing her head so that the golden coins jingled. + +"He did not show it to me, girl," remarked Lady Agnes coldly. + +"Hai! It seems that the rumy of Hearne can lie." + +"I shall put you out of the house if you speak in that way," said +Lambert sternly. "Silver went to Lady Agnes and tried to blackmail her." + +"He's a boro pappin, and that's Romany for a large goose, my Gorgious +rye, for I asked no gold." + +"You told him to ask five thousand pounds." + +"May I die in a ditch if I did!" cried Chaldea vehemently. "Touch the +gold of the raclan I would not, though I wanted bread. The tiny rye took +the letter to give to the prastramengro, and that's a policeman, my +gentleman, so that there might be trouble. But I wished no gold from +her. Romany speaking, I should like to poison her. I love you, and--" + +"Have done with this nonsense, Chaldea. Talk like that and out you go. +I can see from what you admit, that you have been making mischief." + +"That's as true as my father," laughed the gypsy viciously. "And glad am +I to say the word, my boro rye. And why should the raclan go free-footed +when she drew her rom to be slaughtered like a pig?" + +"I did nothing of the sort," cried Agnes, with an angry look. + +"Duvel, it is true." Chaldea still addressed Lambert, and took no notice +of Agnes. "I swear it on your Bible-book. I found the letter in my +brother's tent, the day after he perished. Hearne, for Hearne he was, +and a gentle Romany also, read the letter, saying that the raclan, his +own romi, was running away with you." + +"Who wrote the letter?" demanded Agnes indignantly. + +This time Chaldea answered her fiercely. "You did, my Gorgious rani, and +lie as you may, it's the truth I tell." + +Ill as he was, Lambert could not endure seeing the girl insult Agnes. +With unexpected strength he rose from his chair and took her by the +shoulders to turn her out of the room. Chaldea laughed wildly, but did +not resist. It was Agnes who intervened. "Let her stay until we learn +the meaning of these things, Noel," she said rapidly in French. + +"She insults you," he replied, in the same tongue, but released the +girl. + +"Never mind; never mind." Agnes turned to Chaldea and reverted to +English. "Girl, you are playing a dangerous game. I wrote no letter to +the man you call Hearne, and who was my husband--Sir Hubert Pine." + +Chaldea laughed contemptuously. "Avali, that is true. The letter was +written by you to my precious rye here, and Hearne's dukkerin brought it +his way." + +"How did he get it?" + +"Those who know, know," retorted Chaldea indifferently. "Hearne's breath +was out of him before I could ask." + +"Why do you say that I wrote the letter?" + +"The tiny rye swore by his God that you did." + +"It is absolutely false!" + +"Oh, my mother, there are liars about," jeered the gypsy sceptically. +"Catch you blabbing your doings on the crook, my rani, Chore mandy--" + +"Speak English," interrupted Agnes, who was quivering with rage. + +"You can't cheat me," translated Chaldea sulkily. "You write my rye, +here, the letter swearing to run world-wide with him, and let it fall +into your rom's hands, so as to fetch him to the big house. Then did +you, my cunning gentleman," she whirled round on the astounded Lambert +viciously, "hide so quietly in the bushes to shoot. Hai! it is so, and I +love you for the boldness, my Gorgious one." + +"It is absolutely false," cried Lambert, echoing Agnes. + +"True! true! and twice times true. May I go crazy, Meg, if it isn't. You +wanted the raclan as your romi, and so plotted my brother's death. But +your sweet one will go before the Poknees, and with irons on her wrists, +and a rope round her--" + +"You she-devil!" shouted Lambert in a frenzy of rage, and forgetting in +his anger the presence of Agnes. + +"Words of honey under the moon," mocked the girl, then suddenly became +tender. "Let her go, rye, let her go. My love is all for you, and when +we pad the hoof together, those who hate us shall take off the hat." + +Lambert sat glaring at her furiously, and Agnes glided between him and +the girl, fearful lest he should spring up and insult her. But she +addressed her words to Chaldea. "Why do you think I got Mr. Lambert to +kill my husband?" she asked, wincing at having to put the question, but +seeing that it was extremely necessary to learn all she could from the +gypsy. + +The other woman drew her shawl closely round her fine form and snapped +her fingers contemptuously. "It needs no chovihani to tell. Hearne the +Romany was poor, Pine the Gentile chinked gold in his pockets. Says you +to yourself, 'He I love isn't him with money.' And says you, 'If I don't +get my true rom, the beauty of the world will clasp him to her breast.' +So you goes for to get Hearne out of the flesh, to wed the rye here on +my brother's rich possessions. Avali," she nodded vigorously. "That is +so, though 'No' you says to me, for wisdom. Red money you have gained, +my daring sister, for the blood of a Romany chal has changed the color. +But I'm no--" + +How long she would have continued to rage at Lady Agnes it is impossible +to say, for the invalid, with the artificial strength of furious anger, +sprang from his chair to turn her out of the room. Chaldea dodged him in +the alert way of a wild animal. + +"That's no love-embrace, my rye," she jibed, retreating swiftly. "Later, +later, when the moon rises, my angel," and she slipped deftly through +the door with a contemptuous laugh. Lambert would have followed, but +that Agnes caught his arm, and with tears in her eyes implored him to +remain. + +"But what can we do in the face of such danger?" she asked him when he +was quieter, and breaking down, she sobbed bitterly. + +"We must meet it boldly. Silver has the forged letter: he must be +arrested." + +"But the scandal, Noel. Dare we--" + +"Agnes, you are innocent: I am innocent. Innocence can dare all things." + +Both sick, both troubled, both conscious of the dark clouds around them, +they looked at one another in silence. Then Lambert repeated his words +with conviction, to reassure himself as much as to comfort her. + +"Innocence can dare all things," said Lambert, positively. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A FRIEND IN NEED. + + +It was natural that Lambert should talk of having Silver arrested, as in +the first flush of indignation at his audacious attempt to levy +blackmail, this appeared the most reasonable thing to do. But when Agnes +went back to The Manor, and the sick man was left alone to struggle +through a long and weary night, the reaction suggested a more cautious +dealing with the matter. Silver was a venomous little reptile, and if +brought before a magistrate would probably produce the letter which he +offered for sale at so ridiculous a price. If this was made public, +Agnes would find herself in an extremely unpleasant position. Certainly +the letter was forged, but that would not be easy to prove. And even if +it were proved and Agnes cleared her character, the necessary scandal +connected with the publicity of such a defence would be both distressing +and painful. In wishing to silence Silver, and yet avoid the +interference of the police, Lambert found himself on the horns of a +dilemma. + +Having readjusted the situation in his own mind, Lambert next day wrote +a lengthy letter to Agnes, setting forth his objections to drastic +measures. He informed her--not quite truthfully--that he hoped to be on +his feet in twenty-four hours, and then would personally attend to the +matter, although he could not say as yet what he intended to do. But +five out of the seven days of grace allowed by the blackmailer yet +remained, and much could be done in that time. "Return to town and +attend to your own and to your brother's affairs as usual," concluded +the letter. "All matters connected with Silver can be left in my hands, +and should he attempt to see you in the meantime, refer him to me." The +epistle ended with the intimation that Agnes was not to worry, as the +writer would take the whole burden on his own shoulders. The widow felt +more cheerful after this communication, and went back to her town house +to act as her lover suggested. She had every belief in Lambert's +capability to deal with the matter. + +The young man was more doubtful, for he could not see how he was to +begin unravelling this tangled skein. The interview with Chaldea had +proved futile, as she was plainly on the side of the enemy, and to apply +to Silver for information as to his intentions would merely result in a +repetition of what he had said to Lady Agnes. It only remained to lay +the whole matter before Inspector Darby, and Lambert was half inclined +to go to Wanbury for this purpose. He did not, however, undertake the +journey, for two reasons. Firstly, he wished to avoid asking for +official assistance until absolutely forced to do so; and secondly, he +was too ill to leave the cottage. The worry he felt regarding Agnes's +perilous position told on an already weakened frame, and the invalid +grew worse instead of better. + +Finally, Lambert decided to risk a journey to the camp, which was not so +very far distant, and interview Mother Cockleshell. The old lady had no +great love for Chaldea, who flouted her authority, and would not, +therefore, be very kindly disposed towards the girl. The young man +believed, in some vague way, that Chaldea had originated the conspiracy +which had to do with the letter, and was carrying her underhand plans +to a conclusion with the aid of Silver. Mother Cockleshell, who was very +shrewd, might have learned or guessed the girl's rascality, and would +assuredly thwart her aims if possible. Also the gypsy-queen would +probably know a great deal about Pine in his character of Ishmael +Hearne, since she had been acquainted with him intimately during the +early part of his life. But, whatever she knew, or whatever she did not +know, Lambert considered that it would be wise to enlist her on his +side, as the mere fact that Chaldea was one of the opposite party would +make her fight like a wild cat. And as the whole affair had to do with +the gypsies, and as Gentilla Stanley was a gypsy, it was just as well to +apply for her assistance. Nevertheless, Lambert was quite in the dark, +as to what assistance could be rendered. + +In this way the young man made his plans, only to be thwarted by the +weakness of his body. He could crawl out of bed and sit before the fire, +but in spite of all his will-power, he could not crawl as far as the +camp. Baffled in this way, he decided to send a note asking Mother +Cockleshell to call on him, although he knew that if Chaldea learned +about the visit--which she was almost certain to do--she would be placed +on her guard. But this had to be risked, and Lambert, moreover, believed +that the old woman was quite equal to dealing with the girl. However, +Fate took the matter out of his hands, and before he could even write +the invitation, a visitor arrived in the person of Miss Greeby, who +suggested a way out of the difficulty, by offering her services. Matters +came to a head within half an hour of her presenting herself in the +sitting-room. + +Miss Greeby was quite her old breezy, masculine self, and her presence +in the cottage was like a breath of moorland air blowing through the +languid atmosphere of a hot-house. She was arrayed characteristically in +a short-skirted, tailor-made gown of a brown hue and bound with brown +leather, and wore in addition a man's cap, dog-skin gloves, and heavy +laced-up boots fit to tramp miry country roads. With her fresh +complexion and red hair, and a large frame instinct with vitality, she +looked aggressively healthy, and Lambert with his failing life felt +quite a weakling beside this magnificent goddess. + +"Hallo, old fellow," cried Miss Greeby in her best man-to-man style, +"feeling chippy? Why, you do look a wreck, I must say. What's up?" + +"The fever's up and I'm down," replied Lambert, who was glad to see her, +if only to distract his painful thoughts. "It's only a touch of malaria, +my dear Clara. I shall be all right in a few days." + +"You're hopeful, I must say, Lambert. What about a doctor?" + +"I don't need one. Mrs. Tribb is nursing me." + +"Coddling you," muttered Miss Greeby, planting herself manfully in an +opposite chair and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly manner. "Fresh air +and exercise, beefsteaks and tankards of beer are what you need. Defy +Nature and you get the better of her. Kill or cure is my motto." + +"As I have strong reasons to remain alive, I shan't adopt your +prescription, Dr. Greeby," said Lambert, dryly. "What are you doing in +these parts? I thought you were shooting in Scotland." + +"So I was," admitted the visitor, frankly and laying her bludgeon--she +still carried it--across her knee. "But I grew sick of the sport. +Knocked over the birds too easy, Lambert, so there was no fun. The birds +are getting as silly as the men." + +"Well, women knock them over easy enough." + +"That's what I mean," said Miss Greeby, vigorously. "It's a rotten +world, this, unless one can get away into the wilds." + +"Why don't you go there?" + +"Well," Miss Greeby leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and +dandled the bludgeon with both hands. "I thought I'd like a change from +the rough and ready. This case of Pine's rather puzzled me, and so I'm +on the trail as a detective." + +Lambert was rather startled. "That's considerably out of your line, +Clara." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Exactly, and so I'm indulging in the novelty. One +must do something to entertain one's self, you know, Lambert. It struck +me that the gypsies know a lot more about the matter than they chose to +say, so I came down yesterday, and put up at the Garvington Arms in the +village. Here I'm going to stay until I can get at the root of the +matter." + +"What root?" + +"I wish to learn who murdered Pine, poor devil." + +"Ah," Lambert smiled. "You wish to gain the reward." + +"Not me. I've got more money than I know what to do with, as it is. +Silver is more anxious to get the cash than I am." + +"Silver! Have you seen him lately?" + +"A couple of days ago," Miss Greeby informed him easily. "He's my +secretary now, Lambert. Yes! The poor beast was chucked out of his +comfortable billet by the death of Pine, and hearing that I wanted some +one to write my letters and run my errands, and act like a tame cat +generally, he applied to me. Since I knew him pretty well through Pine, +I took him on. He's a cunning little fox, but all right when he's kept +in order. And I find him pretty useful, although I've only had him as a +secretary for a fortnight." + +Lambert did not immediately reply. The news rather amazed him, as it had +always been Miss Greeby's boast that she could manage her own business. +It was queer that she should have changed her mind in this respect, +although she was woman enough to exercise that very feminine +prerogative. But the immediate trend of Lambert's thoughts were in the +direction of seeking aid from his visitor. He could not act himself +because he was sick, and he knew that she was a capable person in +dealing with difficulties. Also, simply for the sake of something to do +she had become an amateur detective and was hunting for the trail of +Pine's assassin. It seemed to Lambert that it would not be a bad idea to +tell her of his troubles. She would, as he knew, be only too willing to +assist, and in that readiness lay his hesitation. He did not wish, if +possible, to lie under any obligation to Miss Greeby lest she should +demand in payment that he should become her husband. And yet he believed +that by this time she had overcome her desires in this direction. To +make sure, he ventured on a few cautious questions. + +"We're friends, aren't we, Clara?" he asked, after a long pause. + +"Sure," said Miss Greeby, nodding heartily. "Does it need putting into +words?" + +"I suppose not, but what I mean is that we are pals." He used the word +which he knew most appealed to her masculine affectations. + +"Sure," said Miss Greeby again, and once more heartily. "Real, honest +pals. I never believed in that stuff about the impossibility of a man +and woman being pals unless there's love rubbish about the business. At +one time, Lambert, I don't deny but what I had a feeling of that sort +for you." + +"And now?" questioned the young man with an uneasy smile. + +"Now it's gone, or rather my love has become affection, and that's quite +a different thing, old fellow. I want to see you happy, and you aren't +now. I daresay you're still crying for the moon. Eh?" she looked at him +sharply. + +"You asked me that before when you came here," said Lambert, slowly. +"And I refused to answer. I can answer now. The moon is quite beyond my +reach, so I have dried my tears." + +Miss Greeby, who was lighting a cigarette, threw away the match and +stared hard at his haggard face. "Well, I didn't expect to hear that, +now we know how the moon--" + +"Call things by their right name," interrupted Lambert, sharply. "Agnes +is now a widow, if that's what you mean." + +"It is, if you call Agnes a thing. Of course, you'll marry her since the +barrier has been removed?" + +"Meaning Pine? No! I'm not certain on that point. She is a rich widow +and I'm a poor artist. In honor bound I can't allow her to lose her +money by becoming my wife." + +Miss Greeby stared at the fire. "I heard about that beastly will," she +said, frowning. "Horribly unfair, I call it. Still, I believed that you +loved the moon--well, then, Agnes, since you wish us to be plain--and +would carry her off if you had the pluck." + +"I have never been accused of not having pluck, Clara. But there's +another thing to be considered, and that's honor." + +"Oh, bosh!" cried Miss Greeby, with boyish vigor. "You love her and she +loves you, so why not marry?" + +"I'm not worth paying two million for, Clara." + +"You are, if she loves you." + +"She does and would marry me to-morrow if I would let her. The +hesitation is on my part." + +"More fool you. If I were in her position I'd soon overcome your +scruples." + +"I think not," said Lambert delicately. + +"Oh, I think so," she retorted. "A woman always gets her own way." + +"And sometimes wrecks continents to get it." + +"I'd wreck this one, anyhow," said Miss Greeby dryly. "However, we're +pals, and if there's anything I can do--" + +"Yes, there is," said Lambert abruptly, and making up his mind to trust +her, since she showed plainly that there was no chance of love on her +part destroying friendship. "I'm sick here and can't move. Let me engage +you to act on my behalf." + +"As what, if you don't mind my asking, Lambert?" + +"As what you are for the moment, a detective." + +"Ho!" said Miss Greeby in a guttural manner. "What's that?" + +"I want you to learn on my behalf, and as my deputy, who murdered Pine." + +"So that you can marry Agnes?" + +"No. The will has stopped my chances in that direction. Her two million +forms quite an insurmountable barrier between us now, as the fact of her +being Pine's wife did formerly. Now you understand the situation, and +that I am prevented by honor from making her my wife, don't let us talk +any more on that especial subject." + +"Right you are," assented Miss Greeby affably. "Only I'll say this, that +you are too scrupulous, and if I can help you to marry Agnes I shall do +so." + +"Why?" demanded Lambert bluntly. + +"Because I'm your pal and wish to see you happy. You won't be happy, +like the Pears soap advertisement, until you get it. Agnes is the 'it.'" + +"Well, then, leave the matter alone, Clara," said Lambert, taking the +privilege of an invalid and becoming peevish. "As things stand, I can +see no chance of marrying Agnes without violating my idea of honor." + +"Then why do you wish me to help you?" demanded Miss Greeby sharply. + +"How do I wish you to help me, you mean." + +"Not at all. I know what you wish me to do; act as detective; I know +about it, my dear boy." + +"You don't," retorted Lambert, again fractious. "But if you listen I'll +tell you exactly what I mean." + +Miss Greeby made herself comfortable with a fresh cigarette, and nodded +in an easy manner, "I'm all attention, old boy. Fire away!" + +"You must regard my confidence as sacred." + +"There's my hand on it. But I should like to know why you desire to +learn who murdered Pine." + +"Because if you don't track down the assassin, Agnes will get into +trouble." + +"Ho!" ejaculated Miss Greeby, guttural again. "Go on." + +Lambert wasted no further time in preliminary explanations, but plunged +into the middle of things. In a quarter of an hour his auditor was +acquainted with the facts of a highly unpleasant case, but exhibited no +surprise when she heard what her secretary had to do with the matter. In +fact, she rather appeared to admire his acuteness in turning such shady +knowledge to his own advantage. At the same time, she considered that +Agnes had behaved in a decidedly weak manner. "If I'd been in her shoes +I'd have fired the beast out in double-quick time," said Miss Greeby +grimly. "And I'd have belted him over the head in addition." + +"Then he would have gone straight to the police." + +"Oh, no he wouldn't. One thousand reward against twenty-five thousand +blackmail isn't good enough." + +"He won't get his blackmail," said Lambert, tightening his lips. + +"You bet he won't now that I've come into the matter. But there's no +denying he's got the whip-hand so far." + +"Agnes never wrote the letter," said Lambert quickly. + +"Oh, that goes without the saying, my dear fellow. Agnes knew that if +she became a rich widow, your uneasy sense of honor would never let you +marry her. She had no reason to get rid of Pine on that score." + +"Or on any score, you may add." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Certainly! You and Agnes should have got married +and let Garvington get out of his troubles as best he could. That's what +I should have done, as I'm not an aristocrat, and can't see the use of +becoming the sacrifice for a musty, fusty old family. However, Agnes +made her bargain and kept to it. She's all right, although other people +may be not of that opinion." + +"There isn't a man or woman who dare say a word against Agnes." + +"A good many will say lots of words, should what you have told me get +into print," rejoined Miss Greeby dryly. + +"I agree with you. Therefore do I ask for your assistance. What is best +to be done, Clara?" + +"We must get the letter from Silver and learn who forged it. Once that +is made plain, the truth will come to light, since the individual who +forged and sent that letter must have fired the second shot." + +"Quite so. But Silver won't give up the letter." + +"Oh, yes, he will. He's my secretary, and I'll make him." + +"Even as your secretary he won't," said Lambert, dubiously. + +"We'll see about that, old boy. I'll heckle and harry and worry Silver +on to the gallows if he doesn't do what he's told." + +"The gallows. You don't think--" + +"Oh, I think nothing. It was to Silver's interest that Pine should live, +so I don't fancy he set the trap. It was to Chaldea's interest that Pine +should not live, since she loves you, and I don't think she is to blame. +Garvington couldn't have done it, as he has lost a good friend in Pine, +and--and--go on Lambert, suggest some one else." + +"I can't. And two out of three you mention were inside The Manor when +the second shot was fired, so can prove an alibi." + +"I'm not bothering about who fired the second shot," said Miss Greeby +leisurely, "but as to who wrote that letter. Once we find the forger, +we'll soon discover the assassin." + +"True; but how are you going about it?" + +"I shall see Silver and force him to give me the letter." + +"If you can." + +"Oh, I'll manage somehow. The little beast's a coward, and I'll bully +him into compliance." Miss Greeby spoke very confidently. "Then we'll +see the kind of paper the letter is written on, and there may be an +envelope which would show where it was posted. Of course, the forger +must be well acquainted with Agnes's handwriting." + +"That's obvious," said Lambert promptly. "Well, I suppose that your way +of starting the matter is the best. But we have only four days before +Silver makes his move." + +"When I get the letter he won't make any move," reported Miss Greeby, +and she looked very determined. + +"Let us hope so. But, Clara, before you return to town I wish you would +see Mother Cockleshell." + +"That old gypsy fortune-teller, who looks like an almshouse widow? Why?" + +"She hates Chaldea, and I suspect that Chaldea has something to do with +the matter of this conspiracy." + +"Ha!" Miss Greeby rubbed her aquiline nose. "A conspiracy. Perhaps you +may be right. But its reason?" + +Lambert colored. "Chaldea wants me to marry her, you know." + +"The minx! I know she does. I warned you against having her to sit for +you, Lambert. But there's no sense in your suggestion, my boy. It wasn't +any catch for her to get Pine killed and leave his wife free to marry +you." + +"No. And yet--and yet--hang it," the young man clutched his hair in +desperation and glared at the fire, "I can't see any motive." + +"Nor can I. Unless it is to be found in the City." + +"Gypsies are more lawless than City men," observed the other quickly, +"and Hearne would have enemies rather than Pine." + +"I don't agree with you," said Miss Greeby, rising and getting ready to +go away. "Hearne was nobody: Pine was a millionaire. Successful men have +enemies all over the shop." + +"At the inquest it was said that Pine had no enemies." + +"Oh, rubbish. A strong man like that couldn't make such a fortune +without exciting envy. I'll bet that his assassin is to be found in a +frock coat and a silk hat. However, I'll look up Mother Cockleshell, as +it is just as well to know what she thinks of this pretty gypsy hussy of +yours." + +"Not of mine. I don't care for her in the least." + +"As if that mattered. There is always one who loves and one who is +loved, as Heine says, and that is the cause of all life's tragedies. Of +this tragedy maybe, although I think some envious stockbroker may have +shot Pine as a too successful financial rival. However, we shall see +about it." + +"And see about another thing, Clara," said Lambert quickly. "Call on +Agnes and tell her that she need not worry over Silver. She expects the +Deluge in a few days, remember." + +"Write and tell her that I have the case in hand and that she needn't +trouble about Silver. I'll straighten him out." + +"I fear you are too hopeful." + +"I don't fear anything of the sort. I'll break his neck if he doesn't +obey me. I wouldn't hesitate to do it, either." + +Lambert ran his eyes over her masculine personality and laughed. "I +quite believe that, Clara. But, I say, won't you have some tea before +you go?" + +"No, thanks. I don't eat between meals." + +"Afternoon tea is a meal." + +"Nonsense. It's a weakness. I'm not Garvington. By the way, where is +he?" + +"In Paris, but he returns in a few days." + +"Then don't let him meddle with this matter, or he'll put things wrong." + +"I shall allow no one but yourself to meddle, Clara, Garvington shan't +know a single thing." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Right. All we wish kept quiet would be in the +papers if Garvington gets hold of our secrets. He's a loose-tongued +little glutton. Well, good-bye, old chap, and do look after yourself. +Good people are scarce." + +Lambert gripped her large hand. "I'm awfully obliged to you, Clara." + +"Wait until I do something before you say that, old son," she laughed +and strode towards the door. "By the way, oughtn't I to send the doctor +in?" + +"No. Confound the doctor! I'm all right. You'll see me on my legs in a +few days." + +"Then we can work together at the case. Keep your flag flying, old chap, +for I'm at the helm to steer the bark." And with this nautical farewell +she went off with a manly stride, whistling a gay tune. + +Left alone, the invalid looked into the fire, and wondered if he had +been right to trust her. After some thought, he concluded that it was +the best thing he could have done, since, in his present helpless state, +he needed some one to act as his deputy. And there was no doubt that +Miss Greeby had entirely overcome the passion she had once entertained +for him. + +"I hope Agnes will think so also," thought Lambert, when he began a +letter to the lady. "She was always rather doubtful of Clara." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE. + + +As Miss Greeby had informed Lambert, she intended to remain at the +Garvington Arms until the mystery of Pine's death was solved. But her +interview with him necessitated a rearrangement of plans, since the +incriminating letter appeared to be such an important piece of evidence. +To obtain it, Miss Greeby had decided to return to London forthwith, in +order to compel its surrender. Silver would undoubtedly show fight, but +his mistress was grimly satisfied that she would be able to manage him, +and quite counted upon gaining her end by bullying him into compliance. +When in possession of the letter she decided to submit it to Agnes and +hear what that lady had to say about it as a dexterous piece of forgery. +Then, on what was said would depend her next move in the complicated +game. Meanwhile, since she was on the spot and desired to gather all +possible evidence connected with Chaldea's apparent knowledge of the +crime, Miss Greeby went straight from Lambert's cottage to the gypsy +camp. + +Here she found the community of vagrants in the throes of an election, +or rather their excitement was connected with the deposition of Gentilla +Stanley from the Bohemian throne, and the elevation of Chaldea. Miss +Greeby mixed with the throng, dispensed a few judicious shillings and +speedily became aware of what was going on. It appeared that Chaldea, +being pretty and unscrupulous, and having gained, by cunning, a +wonderful influence amongst the younger members of the tribe, was +insisting that she should be elected its head. The older men and women, +believing wisely that it was better to have an experienced ruler than a +pretty figurehead, stood by Mother Cockleshell, therefore the camp was +divided into two parties. Tongues were used freely, and occasionally +fists came into play, while the gypsies gathered round the tent of the +old woman and listened to the duet between her and the younger aspirant +to this throne of Brentford. Miss Greeby, with crossed legs and leaning +on her bludgeon, listened to the voluble speech of Mother Cockleshell, +which was occasionally interrupted by Chaldea. The oration was delivered +in Romany, and Miss Greeby only understood such scraps of it as was +hastily translated to her by a wild-eyed girl to whom she had given a +shilling. Gentilla, less like a sober pew-opener, and more resembling +the Hecate of some witch-gathering, screamed objurgations at the pitch +of her crocked voice, and waved her skinny arms to emphasize her words, +in a most dramatic fashion. + +"Oh, ye Romans," she screeched vehemently, "are ye not fools to be +gulled by a babe with her mother's milk--and curses that it fed +her--scarcely dry on her living lips? Who am I who speak, asses of the +common? Gentilla Stanley, whose father was Pharaoh before her, and who +can call up the ghosts of dead Egyptian kings, with a tent for a palace, +and a cudgel for a sceptre, and the wisdom of our people at the service +of all." + +"Things have changed," cried out Chaldea with a mocking laugh. "For old +wisdom is dead leaves, and I am the tree which puts forth the green of +new truths to make the Gorgios take off their hats to the Romans." + +"Oh, spawn of the old devil, but you lie. Truth is truth and changes +not. Can you read the hand? can you cheat the Gentile? do you know the +law of the Poknees, and can you diddle them as has money? Says you, 'I +can!' And in that you lie, like your mother before you. Bless your +wisdom"--Mother Cockleshell made an ironical curtsey. "Age must bow +before a brat." + +"Beauty draws money to the Romans, and wheedles the Gorgios to part with +red gold. Wrinkles you have, mother, and weak wits to--" + +"Weak wits, you drab? My weakest wits are your strongest. 'Wrinkles,' +says you in your cunning way, and flaunts your brazen smoothness. I spit +on you for a fool." The old woman suited her action to the word. "Every +wrinkle is the mark of lessons learned, and them is wisdom which the +Romans take from my mouth." + +"Hear the witchly hag," cried Chaldea in her turn. "She and her musty +wisdom that puts the Romans under the feet of the Gentiles. Are not +three of our brothers in choky? have we not been turned off common and +out of field? Isn't the fire low and the pot empty, and every purse +without gold? Bad luck she has brought us," snarled the girl, pointing +an accusing finger. "And bad luck we Romans will have till she is turned +from the camp." + +"Like a dog you would send me away," shrieked Mother Cockleshell, +glancing round and seeing that Chaldea's supporters outnumbered her own. +"But I'm dangerous, and go I shall as a queen should, at my own free +will. I cast a shoe amongst you,"--she flung one of her own, hastily +snatched off her foot--"and curses gather round it. Under its heels +shall you lie, ye Romans, till time again and time once more be +accomplished. I go on my own," she turned and walked to the door of her +tent. "Alone I go to cheat the Gentiles and win my food. Take your new +queen, and with her sorrow and starvation, prison, and the kicks of the +Gorgios. So it is, as I have said, and so it shall be." + +She vanished into the tent, and the older members of the tribe, shaking +their heads over the ill-omen of her concluding words, withdrew +sorrowfully to their various habitations, in order to discuss the +situation. But the young men and women bowed down before Chaldea and +forthwith elected her their ruler, fawning on her, kissing her hands and +invoking blessings on her pretty face, that face which they hoped and +believed would bring prosperity to them. And there was no doubt that of +late, under Mother Cockleshell's leadership, the tribe had been +unfortunate in many ways. It was for this reason that Chaldea had raised +the standard of rebellion, and for this reason also she gained her +triumph. To celebrate her coronation she gave Kara, who hovered +constantly at her elbow, a couple of sovereigns, and told him to buy +food and drink. In a high state of enjoyment the gypsies dispersed in +order to prepare for the forthcoming festivity, and Chaldea, weary but +victorious, stood alone by the steps of the caravan, which was her +perambulating home. Seizing her opportunity, Miss Greeby approached. + +"My congratulations to your majesty," she said ironically. "I'm sorry +not to be able to stay for your coronation, which I presume takes place +to-night. But I have to go back to London to see a friend of yours." + +"I have no friends, my Gentile lady," retorted Chaldea, with a fiery +spark in each eye. "And what do you here amongst the gentle Romany?" + +"Gentle," Miss Greeby chuckled, "that's a new word for the row that's +been going on, my girl. Do you know me?" + +"As I know the road and the tent and the art of dukkerhin. You stay at +the big house, and you love the rye who lived in the wood." + +"Very clever of you to guess that," said Miss Greeby coolly, "but as it +happens, you are wrong. The rye is not for me and not for you. He +marries the lady he worships on his knees. Forgive me for speaking in +this high-flowing manner," ended Miss Greeby apologetically, "but in +romantic situations one must speak romantic words." + +Chaldea did not pay attention to the greater part of this speech, as +only one statement appealed to her. "The rye shall not marry the Gentile +lady," she said between her white teeth. + +"Oh, I think so, Chaldea. Your plotting has all been in vain." + +"My plotting. What do you know of that?" + +"A certain portion, my girl, and I'm going to know more when I see +Silver." + +Chaldea frowned darkly. "I know nothing of him." + +"I think you do, since you gave him a certain letter." + +"Patchessa tu adove?" asked Chaldea scornfully; then, seeing that her +visitor did not understand her, explained: "Do you believe in that?" + +"Yes," said Miss Greeby alertly. "You found the letter in Pine's tent +when he was camping here as Hearne, and passed it to Silver so that he +might ask money for it." + +"It's a lie. I swear it's a lie. I ask no money. I told the tiny rye--" + +"Silver, I presume," put in Miss Greeby carelessly. + +"Aye: Silver is his name, and a good one for him as has no gold." + +"He will get gold from Lady Agnes for the letter." + +"No. Drodi--ah bah!" broke off Chaldea. "You don't understand Romanes. I +speak the Gorgio tongue to such as you. Listen! I found the letter which +lured my brother to his death. The rani wrote that letter, and I gave it +to the tiny rye, saying: 'Tell her if she gives up the big rye free she +shall go; if not take the letter to those who deal in the law.'" + +"The police, I suppose you mean," said Miss Greeby coolly. "A very +pretty scheme, my good girl. But it won't do, you know. Lady Agnes never +wrote that letter, and had nothing to do with the death of her husband." + +"She set a trap for him," cried Chaldea fiercely, "and Hearne walked +into it like a rabbit into a snare. The big rye waited outside and +shot--" + +"That's a lie," interrupted Miss Greeby just as fiercely, and determined +to defend her friend. "He would not do such a thing." + +"Ha! but I can prove it, and will when the time is ripe. He becomes my +rom does the big rye, or round his neck goes the rope; and she dances +long-side, I swear." + +"What a bloodthirsty idea, you savage devil! And how do you propose to +prove that Mr. Lambert shot the man?" + +"Aha," sneered Chaldea contemptuously, "you take me for a fool, +saying more than I can do. But know this, my precious angel"--she +fumbled in her pocket and brought out a more or less formless piece +of lead--"what's this, may I ask? The bullet which passed through +Hearne's heart, and buried itself in a tree-trunk." + +Miss Greeby made a snatch at the article, but Chaldea was too quick for +her and slipped it again into her pocket. "You can't prove that it is +the bullet," snapped Miss Greeby glaring, for she dreaded lest its +production should incriminate Lambert, innocent though she believed him +to be. + +"Kara can prove it. He went to where Hearne was shot and saw that there +was a big tree by the blue door, and before the shrubbery. A shot fired +from behind the bushes would by chance strike the tree. The bullet which +killed my brother was not found in the heart. It passed through and was +in the tree-trunk. Kara knifed it out and brought it to me. If this," +Chaldea held up the bullet again jeeringly, "fits the pistol of the big +rye he will swing for sure. The letter hangs her and the bullet hangs +him. I want my price." + +"You won't get it, then," said Miss Greeby, eyeing the pocket into +which the girl had again dropped the bullet. "Mr. Lambert was absent in +London on that night. I heard that by chance." + +"Then you heard wrong, my Gentile lady. Avali, quite wrong. The big rye +returned on that very night and went to Lundra again in the morning." + +"Even if he did," said Miss Greeby desperately, "he did not leave the +cottage. His housekeeper can prove--" + +"Nothing," snapped Chaldea triumphantly. "She was in her bed and the +golden rye was in his bed. My brother was killed after midnight, and if +the rye took a walk then, who can say where he was?" + +"You have to prove all this, you know." + +Chaldea snapped her fingers. "First, the letter to shame her; then the +bullet to hang him. The rest comes after. My price, you know, my +Gorgious artful. I toves my own gad. It's a good proverb, lady, and true +Romany." + +"What does it mean?" + +"I wash my own shirt," said Chaldea, significantly, and sprang up the +steps of her gaily-painted caravan to shut herself in. + +"What a fool I am not to take that bullet from her," thought Miss +Greeby, standing irresolutely before the vehicle, and she cast a glance +around to see if such an idea was feasible. It was not, as she speedily +decided, for a single cry from Chaldea would bring the gypsies round to +protect their new queen. It was probable also that the girl would fight +like a wild cat; although Miss Greeby felt that she could manage her so +far. But she was not equal to fighting the whole camp of vagrants, and +so was compelled to abandon her scheme. In a somewhat discontented mood, +she turned away, feeling that, so far, Chaldea had the whip-hand. + +Then it occurred to her that she had not yet examined Mother Cockleshell +as had been her original intention when she came to the camp. Forthwith +she passed back to the tent under the elm, to interview the deposed +queen. Here, she found Gentilla Stanley placing her goods in an untidy +bundle on the back of a large gray donkey, which was her private +property. The old creature's eyes were red with weeping and her gray +hair had fallen down, so that she presented a somewhat wild appearance. +This, in connection with her employment, reminded Miss Greeby--whose +reading was wide--of a similar scene in Borrow's "Lavengro," when Mrs. +Pentulengro's mother shifted herself. And for the moment Mother +Cockleshell had just the hairy looks of Mrs. Hern, and also at the +moment, probably had the same amiable feelings. + +Feeling that the old woman detested her successful rival, Miss Greeby +approached, guessing that now was the right moment to work on her mind, +and thus to learn what she could of Chaldea's underhand doings. She +quite expected a snub, as Gentilla could scarcely be expected to answer +questions when taken up with her own troubles. But the artful creature, +seeing by a side-glance that Miss Greeby was a wealthy Gentile lady, +dropped one of her almshouse curtseys when she approached, and bundled +up her hair. A change passed over her withered face, and Miss Greeby +found herself addressing not so much a fallen queen, as a respectable +old woman who had known better days. + +"And a blessing on your sweet face, my angel," mumbled Mother +Cockleshell. "For a heart you have to feel for my sorrows." + +"Here is a sign of my feelings," said Miss Greeby, handing over a +sovereign, for she rightly judged that the gypsy would only appreciate +this outward symbol of sympathy. "Now, what do you know of Pine's +murder?" + +Mother Cockleshell, who was busy tying up the sovereign in a corner of +her respectable shawl, after biting it to make sure it was current gold, +looked up with a vacant expression. "Murder, my lady, and what should I +know of that?" + +Miss Greeby looked at her straightly. "What does Chaldea know of it?" + +A vicious pair of devils looked out of the decent widow's eyes in a +moment, and at once she became the Romany. "Hai! She knows, does she, +the drab! I hope to see her hanged." + +"For what?" + +"For killing of Hearne, may his bones rest sweetly." + +Miss Greeby suppressed an exclamation. "She accuses Lady Agnes of laying +a trap by writing a letter, and says that Mr. Lambert fired the shot." + +"Avali! Avali!" Mother Cockleshell nodded vigorously, but did not +interrupt her preparations for departure. "That she would say, since she +loves the Gorgio, and hates the rani. A rope round her neck to set the +rye free to make Chaldea--my curses on her--his true wife." + +"She couldn't have fired the shot herself, you know," went on Miss +Greeby in a musing manner. "For then she would remove an obstacle to Mr. +Lambert marrying Lady Agnes." + +"Blessings on her for a kind, Gentile lady," said Gentilla, piously, +and looking more respectable than ever, since the lurking devils had +disappeared. "But Chaldea is artful, and knows the rye." + +"What do you mean?" + +"This, my lady. Hearne, who was the Gorgio Pine, had the angel to wife, +but he did not hope to live long because of illness." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Consumption, Pine told me." + +"If he had died natural," pursued Mother Cockleshell, pulling hard at a +strap, "maybe the Gentile lady would have married the golden rye, whom +she loves. But by the violent death, Chaldea has tangled up both in her +knots, and if they wed she will make trouble." + +"So she says. But can she?" + +"Hai! But she's a deep one, ma'am, believe me when I say so," Mother +Cockleshell nodded sapiently. "But foolish trouble has she given +herself, when the death of Hearne natural, or by the pistol-shot would +stop the marriage." + +"What do you mean?" inquired Miss Greeby once more. + +"You Gentiles are fools," said Gentilla, politely. "For you put other +things before true love. Hearne, as Pine, had much gold, and that he +left to his wife should she not marry the golden rye." + +"How do you know that?" + +"Chaldea was told so by the dead, and told me, my lady. Now the angel of +the big house would give up the gold to marry the rye, for her heart is +all for him. 'But,' says he, and tell me if I'm wrong. Says he, 'No. If +I make you my romi that would beggar you and fair it would not be, for a +Romany rye to do!' So, my lady, the red gold parts them, because it's +red money." + +"Red money?" + +"Blood money. The taint of blood is on the wealth of the dead one, and +so it divides by a curse the true hearts of the living. You see, my +lady?" + +Miss Greeby did see, and the more readily, since she had heard Lambert +express exactly the sentiments with which the old gypsy credited him. +An overstrained feeling of honor prevented him in any case from making +Agnes his wife, whether the death had come by violence or by natural +causes. But it was amazing that Gentilla should know this, and Miss +Greeby wonderingly asked her how she came by such knowledge. The +respectable widow chuckled. + +"I have witchly ways, ma'am, and the golden rye has talked many a time +to me in my tent, when I told him of the Gorgious lady's goodness to me +when ill. They love--aye, that is sure--but the money divides their +hearts, and that is foolish. Chaldea had no need to shoot to keep them +apart." + +"How do you know she shot Pine?" + +"Oh, I can say nothing the Poknees would listen to," said Mother +Cockleshell readily. "For I speak only as I think, and not as I know. +But the child was impatient for joy, and hoped by placing the cruel will +between true hearts to gain that of the golden rye for her own part. But +that she will not. Ha! Ha! Nor you, my lady, nor you." + +"Me?" Miss Greeby colored even redder than she was by nature. + +Gentilla looked at her shrewdly. "La! La! La! La!" she croaked. "Age +brings a mighty wisdom. They were fools to throw me out," and she jerked +her grizzled head in the direction of the caravans and tents. + +"Don't talk rubbish, you old donkey! Mr. Lambert is only my friend." + +"You're a woman and he's a man," said Mother Cockleshell sententiously. + +"We are chums, pals, whatever you like to call us. I want to see him +happy." + +"He will never be happy, my lady, unless he marries the rani. And death, +by bringing the money between their true love, has divided them forever, +unless the golden rye puts his heart before his fear of silly chatter +for them he moves amongst. The child was right to shoot Hearne, so far, +although she could have waited and gained the same end. The rye is free +to marry her, or to marry you, ma'am, but never to marry the angel, +unless--" Mother Cockleshell adjusted the bundle carefully on the +donkey, and then cut a long switch from the tree. + +"I don't want to marry Mr. Lambert," said Miss Greeby decisively. "And +I'll take care that Chaldea doesn't!" + +Gentilla chuckled again. "Oh, trust you for that." + +"As to Chaldea shooting Pine--" + +"Leave it to me, leave it to me, ma'am," said the old gypsy with a +grandiloquent wave of her dirty hand. + +"But I wish to learn the truth and save Lady Agnes from this trouble." + +"You wish to save her?" chuckled Mother Cockleshell. "And not the golden +rye? Ah well, my angel, there are women, and women." She faced round, +and the humor died out of her wrinkled face. "You wish for help and so +have come to see me? Is it not so?" + +"Yes," said Miss Greeby tartly. "Chaldea will make trouble." + +"The child won't. I can manage her." + +Miss Greeby hitched up her broad shoulders contemptuously. "She has +managed you just now." + +"There are ways and ways, and when the hour arrives, the sun rises to +scatter the darkness," said Gentilla mystically. "Let the child win for +the moment, for my turn comes." + +"Then you know something?" + +"What I know mustn't be said till the hour strikes. But content +yourself, my Gorgious lady, with knowing that the child will make no +trouble." + +"She has parted with the letter?" + +"I know of that letter. Hearne showed it to me, and would make for the +big house, although I told him fair not to doubt his true wife." + +"How did he get the letter?" + +"That's tellings," said Mother Cockleshell with a wink of her lively +eye. + +"I've a good mind to take you to the police, and then you'd be forced +to say what you know," said Miss Greeby crossly, for the vague hints +irritated her not a little. + +The old woman cackled in evident enjoyment. "Do that, and the pot will +boil over, ma'am. I wish to help the angel rani who nursed me when I was +sick, and I have debts to pay to Chaldea. Both I do in my own witchly +way." + +"You will help me to learn the truth?" + +"Surely! Surely! my Gorgious one. And now," Mother Cockleshell gave a +tug at the donkey's mouth, "I goes my ways." + +"But where can I find you again?" + +"When the time comes the mouth will open, and them as thinks they're +high will find themselves in the dust. Aye, and maybe lower, if six feet +of good earth lies atop, and them burning in lime, uncoffined and +unblessed." + +Miss Greeby was masculine and fearless, but there was something so weird +about this mystic sentence, which hinted at capital punishment, that she +shrank back nervously. Mother Cockleshell, delighted to see that she had +made an impression, climbed on to the gray donkey and made a progress +through the camp. Passing by Chaldea's caravan she spat on it and +muttered a word or so, which did not indicate that she wished a blessing +to rest on it. Chaldea did not show herself, so the deposed queen was +accompanied to the outskirts of the wood by the elder gypsies, mourning +loudly. But when they finally halted to see the last of Mother +Cockleshell, she raised her hand and spoke authoritatively. + +"I go and I come, my children. Forget not, ye Romans, that I say so +much. When the seed needs rain it falls. Sarishan, brothers and sisters +all." And with this strange speech, mystical to the last, she rode away +into the setting sun, on the gray donkey, looking more like an almshouse +widow than ever. + +As for Miss Greeby, she strode out of the camp and out of the Abbot's +Wood, and made for the Garvington Arms, where she had left her baggage. +What Mother Cockleshell knew, she did not guess; what Mother Cockleshell +intended to do, she could not think; but she was satisfied that Chaldea +would in some way pay for her triumph. And the downfall of the girl was +evidently connected with the unravelling of the murder mystery. In a +witchly way, as the old woman would have said herself, she intended to +adjust matters. + +"I'll leave things so far in her hands," thought Miss Greeby. "Now for +Silver." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +GUESSWORK. + + +Whether Miss Greeby found a difficulty, as was probable, in getting +Silver to hand over the forged letter, or whether she had decided to +leave the solution of this mystery to Mother Cockleshell, it is +impossible to say. But she certainly did not put in an appearance at +Lady Agnes Pine's town house to report progress until after the new +year. Nor in the meantime did she visit Lambert, although she wrote to +say that she induced the secretary to delay his threatened exposure. The +position of things was therefore highly unsatisfactory, since the +consequent suspense was painful both to Agnes and her lover. And of +course the widow had been duly informed of the interview at the cottage, +and naturally expected events to move more rapidly. + +However, taking the wise advice of Isaiah to "Make no haste in time of +trouble," Agnes possessed her soul in patience, and did not seek out +Miss Greeby in any way, either by visiting or by letter. She attended at +her lawyers' offices to supervise her late husband's affairs, and had +frequent consultations with Garvington's solicitors in connection with +the freeing of the Lambert estates. Everything was going on very +satisfactorily, even to the improvement of Lambert's health, so Agnes +was not at all so ill at ease in her mind as might have been expected. +Certainly the sword of Damocles still dangled over her head, and over +the head of Lambert, but a consciousness that they were both innocent, +assured her inwardly that it would not fall. Nevertheless the beginning +of the new year found her in anything but a placid frame of mind. She +was greatly relieved when Miss Greeby at last condescended to pay her a +visit. + +Luckily Agnes was alone when the lady arrived, as Garvington and his +wife were both out enjoying themselves in their several ways. The pair +had been staying with the wealthy widow for Christmas, and had not yet +taken their departure, since Garvington always tried to live at +somebody's expense if possible. He had naturally shut up The Manor +during the festive season, as the villagers expected coals and blankets +and port wine and plum-puddings, which he had neither the money nor the +inclination to supply. In fact, the greedy little man considered that +they should ask for nothing and pay larger rents than they did. By +deserting them when peace on earth and goodwill to men prevailed, or +ought to have prevailed, he disappointed them greatly and chuckled over +their lamentations. Garvington was very human in some ways. + +However, both the corpulent little lord and his untidy wife were out +of the way when Miss Greeby was announced, and Agnes was thankful that +such was the case, since the interview was bound to be an important one. +Miss Greeby, as usual, looked large and aggressively healthy, bouncing +into the room like an india-rubber ball. Her town dress differed very +little from the garb she wore in the country, save that she had a +feather-trimmed hat instead of a man's cap, and carried an umbrella in +place of a bludgeon. A smile, which showed all her strong white teeth in +a somewhat carnivorous way, overspread her face as she shook hands +vigorously with her hostess. And Miss Greeby's grip was so friendly as +to be positively painful. + +"Here you are, Agnes, and here am I. Beastly day, ain't it? Rain and +rain and rain again. Seems as though we'd gone back to Father Noah's +times, don't it?" + +"I expected you before, Clara," remarked Lady Agnes rather hurriedly, +and too full of anxiety to discuss the weather. + +"Well, I intended to come before," confessed Miss Greeby candidly. +"Only, one thing and another prevented me!" Agnes noticed that she did +not specify the hindrances. "It was the deuce's own job to get that +letter. Oh, by the way, I suppose Lambert told you about the letter?" + +"Mr. Silver told me about it, and I told Noel," responded Agnes gravely. +"I also heard about your interview with--" + +"Oh, that's ages ago, long before Christmas. I should have gone and seen +him, to tell about my experiences at the gypsy camp, but I thought that +I would learn more before making my report as a detective. By the way, +how is Lambert, do you know?" + +"He is all right now, and is in town." + +"At his old rooms, I suppose. For how long? I want to see him." + +"For an indefinite period. Garvington has turned him out of the +cottage." + +"The deuce! What's that for?" + +"Well," said Agnes, explaining reluctantly, "you see Noel paid no rent, +as Garvington is his cousin, and when an offer came along offering a +pound a week for the place, Garvington said that he was too poor to +refuse it. So Noel has taken a small house in Kensington, and Mrs. Tribb +has been installed as his housekeeper. I wonder you didn't know these +things." + +"Why should I?" asked Miss Greeby, rather aggressively. + +"Because it is Mr. Silver who has taken the cottage." + +Miss Greeby sat up alertly. "Silver. Oh, indeed. Then that explains why +he asked me for leave to stay in the country. Said his health required +fresh air, and that London got on his nerves. Hum! hum!" Miss Greeby +bit the handle of her umbrella. "So he's taken the Abbot's Wood Cottage, +has he? I wonder what that's for?" + +"I don't know, and I don't care," said Agnes restlessly. "Of course I +could have prevented Garvington letting it to him, since he tried to +blackmail me, but I thought it was best to see the letter, and to +understand his meaning more thoroughly before telling my brother about +his impertinence. Noel wanted me to tell, but I decided not to--in the +meantime at all events." + +"Silver's meaning is not hard to understand," said Miss Greeby, drily +and feeling in her pocket. "He wants to get twenty-five thousand pounds +for this." She produced a sheet of paper dramatically. "However, I made +the little animal give it to me for nothing. Never mind what arguments +I used. I got it out of him, and brought it to show you." + +Agnes, paling slightly, took the letter and glanced over it with +surprise. + +"Well," she said, drawing a long breath, "if I had not been certain that +I never wrote such a letter, I should believe that I did. My handwriting +has certainly been imitated in a wonderfully accurate way." + +"Who imitated it?" asked Miss Greeby, who was watching her eagerly. + +"I can't say. But doesn't Mr. Silver--" + +"Oh, he knows nothing, or says that he knows nothing. All he swears to +is that Chaldea found the letter in Pine's tent the day after his +murder, and before Inspector Darby had time to search. The envelope had +been destroyed, so we don't know if the letter was posted or delivered +by hand." + +"If I had written such a letter to Noel," said Agnes quietly, "it +certainly would have been delivered by hand." + +"In which case Pine might have intercepted the messenger," put in Miss +Greeby. "It couldn't have been sent by post, or Pine would not have got +hold of it, unless he bribed Mrs. Tribb into giving it up." + +"Mrs. Tribb is not open to bribery, Clara. And as to the letter, I never +wrote it, nor did Noel ever receive it." + +"It was written from The Manor, anyhow," said Miss Greeby bluntly. "Look +at the crest and the heading. Someone in the house wrote it, if you +didn't." + +"I'm not so sure of that. The paper might have been stolen." + +"Well." Miss Greeby again bit her umbrella handle reflectively. "There's +something in that, Agnes. Chaldea told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune in the +park, and afterwards she came to the drawing-room to tell it again. I +wonder if she stole the paper while she was in the house." + +"Even if she did, an uneducated gypsy could not have forged the letter." + +"She might have got somebody to do so," suggested Miss Greeby, nodding. + +"Then the somebody must be well acquainted with my handwriting," +retorted Lady Agnes, and began to study the few lines closely. + +She might have written it herself, so much did it resemble her style of +writing. The terse communication stated that the writer, who signed +herself "Agnes Pine," would meet "her dearest Noel" outside the blue +door, shortly after midnight, and hoped that he would have the motor at +the park gates to take them to London en route to Paris. "Hubert is sure +to get a divorce," ended the letter, "and then we can marry at once and +be happy ever more." + +It was certainly a silly letter, and Agnes laughed scornfully. + +"I don't express myself in that way," she said contemptuously, and +still eyeing the writing wonderingly. "And as I respected my husband and +respect myself, I should never have thought of eloping with my cousin, +especially from Garvington's house, when I had much better and safer +chances of eloping in town. Had Noel received this, he would never have +believed that I wrote it, as I assuredly did not. And a 'motor at the +park gates,'" she read. "Why not at the postern gate, which leads to the +blue door? that would have been safer and more reasonable. Pah! I never +heard such rubbish," and she folded up the letter to slip it into her +pocket. + +Miss Greeby looked rather aghast. "Oh, you must give it back to me," she +said hurriedly. "I have to look into the case, you know." + +"I shall not give it back to you," said Agnes in a determined manner. +"It is in my possession and shall remain there. I wish to show it to +Noel." + +"And what am I to say to Silver?" + +"Whatever you like. You can manage him, you know." + +"He'll make trouble." + +"Now that he has lost this weapon"--Agnes touched her pocket--"he +can't." + +"Well"--Miss Greeby shrugged her big shoulders and stood up--"just as +you please. But it would be best to leave the letter and the case in my +hands." + +"I think not," rejoined Agnes decisively. "Noel is now quite well again, +and I prefer him to take charge of the matter himself." + +"Is that all the thanks I get for my trouble?" + +"My dear Clara," said the other cordially, "I am ever so much obliged to +you for robbing Mr. Silver of this letter. But I don't wish to put you +to any more trouble." + +"Just as you please," said Miss Greeby again, and rather sullenly. "I +wash my hands of the business, and if Silver makes trouble you have +only yourself to thank. I advise you also, Agnes, to see Mother +Cockleshell and learn what she has to say." + +"Does she know anything?" + +"She gave me certain mysterious hints that she did. But she appears to +have a great opinion of you, my dear, so she may be more open with you +than she was with me." + +"Where is she to be found?" + +"I don't know. Chaldea is queen of the tribe, which is still camped on +the outskirts of Abbot's Wood. Mother Cockleshell has gone away on her +own. Have you any idea who wrote the letter?" + +Agnes took out the forged missive again and studied it. "Not in the +least," she said, shaking her head. + +"Do you know of any one who can imitate your handwriting?" + +"Not that I know--oh," she stopped suddenly and grew as white as the +widow's cap she wore. "Oh," she said blankly. + +"What is it?" demanded Miss Greeby, on fire with curiosity. "Have you +thought of any one?" + +Agnes shook her head again and placed the letter in her pocket. "I can +think of no one," she said in a low voice. + +Miss Greeby did not entirely believe this, as the sudden hesitation and +the paleness hinted at some unexpected thought, probably connected with +the forgery. However, since she had done all she could, it was best, as +she judged, to leave things in the widow's hands. "I'm tired of the +whole business," said Miss Greeby carelessly. "It wouldn't do for me to +be a detective, as I have no staying power, and get sick of things. +Still, if you want me, you know where to send for me, and at all events +I've drawn Silver's teeth." + +"Yes, dear; thank you very much," said Agnes mechanically, so the +visitor took her leave, wondering what was rendering her hostess so +absent-minded. A very persistent thought told her that Agnes had made a +discovery in connection with the letter, but since she would not impart +that thought there was no more to be said. + +When Miss Greeby left the house and was striding down the street, Agnes +for the third time took the letter from her pocket and studied every +line of the writing. It was wonderfully like her own, she thought again, +and yet wondered both at the contents and at the signature. "I should +never have written in this way to Noel," she reflected. "And certainly +I should never have signed myself 'Agnes Pine' to so intimate a note. +However, we shall see," and with this cryptic thought she placed the +letter in her desk. + +When Garvington and his wife returned they found Agnes singularly quiet +and pale. The little man did not notice this, as he never took any +interest in other people's emotions, but his wife asked questions to +which she received no answers, and looked at Agnes uneasily, when she +saw that she did not eat any dinner to speak of. Lady Garvington was +very fond of her kind-hearted sister-in-law, and would have been glad to +know what was troubling her. But Agnes kept her worries to herself, and +insisted that Jane should go to the pantomime, as she had arranged with +some friends instead of remaining at home. But when Garvington moved to +leave the drawing-room, after drinking his coffee, his sister detained +him. + +"I want you to come to the library to write a letter for me, Freddy," +she said in a tremulous voice. + +"Can't you write it yourself?" said Garvington selfishly, as he was in a +hurry to get to his club. + +"No, dear. I am so tired," sighed Agnes, passing her hand across her +brow. + +"Then you should have kept on Silver as your secretary," grumbled +Garvington. "However, if it won't take long, I don't mind obliging you." +He followed her into the library, and took his seat at the writing +table. "Who is the letter to?" he demanded, taking up a pen in a hurry. + +"To Mr. Jarwin. I want him to find out where Gentilla Stanley is. It's +only a formal letter, so write it and sign it on my behalf." + +"Like an infernal secretary," sighed Garvington, taking paper and +squaring his elbows. "What do you want with old Mother Cockleshell?" + +"Miss Greeby was here to-day and told me that the woman knows something +about poor Hubert's death." + +Garvington's pen halted for a moment, but he did not look round. "What +can she possibly know?" he demanded irritably. + +"That's what I shall find out when Mr. Jarwin discovers her," said +Agnes, who was in a low chair near the fire. "By the way, Freddy, I am +sorry you let the Abbot's Wood Cottage to Mr. Silver." + +"Why shouldn't I?" growled Garvington, writing industriously. "Noel +didn't pay me a pound a week, and Silver does." + +"You might have a more respectable tenant," said Agnes scathingly. + +"Who says Silver isn't respectable?" he asked, looking round. + +"I do, and I have every reason to say so." + +"Oh, nonsense!" Garvington began to write again. "Silver was Pine's +secretary, and now he's Miss Greeby's. They wouldn't have engaged him +unless he was respectable, although he did start life as a pauper +toymaker. I suppose that is what you mean, Agnes. I'm surprised at your +narrowness." + +"Ah, we have not all your tolerance, Freddy. Have you finished that +letter?" + +"There you are." Garvington handed it over. "You don't want me to +address the envelope?" + +"Yes, I do," Agnes ran her eyes over the missive; "and you can add a +postscript to this, telling Mr. Jarwin he can take my motor to look for +Gentilla Stanley if he chooses." + +Garvington did as he was asked reluctantly. "Though I don't see why +Jarwin can't supply his own motors," he grumbled, "and ten to one he'll +only put an advertisement in the newspapers." + +"As if Mother Cockleshell ever saw a newspaper," retorted his sister. +"Oh, thank you, Freddy, you are good," she went on when he handed her +the letter in a newly addressed envelope; "no, don't go, I want to speak +to you about Mr. Silver." + +Garvington threw himself with a growl into a chair. "I don't know +anything about him except that he's my tenant," he complained. + +"Then it is time you did. Perhaps you are not aware that Mr. Silver +tried to blackmail me." + +"What?" the little man grew purple and exploded. "Oh, nonsense!" + +"It's anything but nonsense." Agnes rose and went to her desk to get the +forged letter. "He came to me a long time before Christmas and said that +Chaldea found this," she flourished the letter before her brother's +eyes, "in Hubert's tent when he was masquerading as Hearne." + +"A letter? What does it say?" Garvington stretched out his hand. + +Agnes drew back and returned to her seat by the fire. "I can tell you +the contents," she said coolly, "it is supposed to be written by me to +Noel and makes an appointment to meet him at the blue door on the night +of Hubert's death in order to elope." + +"Agnes, you never wrote such a letter," cried Garvington, jumping up +with a furious red face. + +His sister did not answer for a moment. She had taken the letter just +written to Jarwin by Garvington and was comparing it with that which +Miss Greeby had extorted from Silver. "No," she said in a strange voice +and becoming white, "I never wrote such a letter; but I should be glad +to know why you did." + +"I did?" Garvington retreated and his face became as white as that of +the woman who confronted him, "what the devil do you mean?" + +"I always knew that you were clever at imitating handwriting, Freddy," +said Agnes, while the two letters shook in her grasp, "we used to make a +joke of it, I remember. But it was no joke when you altered that check +Hubert gave you, and none when you imitated his signature to that +mortgage about which he told me." + +"I never--I never!" stammered the detected little scoundrel, holding on +to a chair for support. "I never--" + +"Spare me these lies," interrupted his sister scornfully, "Hubert showed +the mortgage, when it came into his possession, to me. He admitted that +his signature was legal to spare you, and also, for my sake, hushed up +the affair of the check. He warned you against playing with fire, +Freddy, and now you have done so again, to bring about his death." + +"It's a damned lie." + +"It's a damned truth," retorted Agnes fiercely. "I got you to write the +letter to Mr. Jarwin so that I might compare the signature to the one in +the forged letter. Agnes Pine in one and Agnes Pine in the other, both +with the same twists and twirls--very, very like my signature and yet +with a difference that I alone can detect. The postscript about the +motor I asked you to write because the word occurs in the forged letter. +Motor and motor--both the same." + +"It's a lie," denied Garvington again. "I have not imitated your +handwriting in the letter to Jarwin." + +"You unconsciously imitated the signature, and you have written the word +motor the same in both letters," said Agnes decisively. "I suddenly +thought of your talent for writing like other people when Clara Greeby +asked me to-day if I could guess who had forged the letter. I laid a +trap for you and you have fallen into it. And you"--she took a step +forward with fiery glance so that Garvington, retreating, nearly tumbled +over a chair--"you laid a trap for Hubert into which he fell." + +"I never did--I never did!" babbled Garvington, gray with fear. + +"Yes, you did. I swear to it. Now I understand why you threatened to +shoot any possible burglar who should come to The Manor. You learned, in +some way, I don't know how, that Hubert was with the gypsies, and, +knowing his jealous nature, you wrote this letter and let it fall into +his hands, so that he might risk being shot as a robber and a thief." + +"I--I--I--didn't shoot him," panted the man brokenly. + +"It was not for the want of trying. You broke his arm, and probably +would have followed him out to inflict a mortal wound if your accomplice +in the shrubbery had not been beforehand with you." + +"Agnes, I swear that I took Pine for a burglar, and I don't know who +shot him. Really, I don't!" + +"You liar!" said Agnes with intense scorn. "When you posted your +accompl--" + +She had no chance to finish the word, for Garvington broke in furiously +and made a great effort to assert himself. "I had no accomplice. Who +shot Pine I don't know. I never wrote the letter; I never lured him to +his death; he was more good to me alive than dead. He never--" + +"He was not more good to you alive than dead," interrupted Lady Agnes in +her turn. "For Hubert despised you for the way in which you tried to +trick him out of money. He thought you little better than a criminal, +and only hushed up your wickedness for my sake. You would have got no +more money out of him, and you know that much. By killing him you hoped +that I would get the fortune and then you could plunder me at your +leisure. Hubert was hard to manage, and you thought that I would be +easy. Well, I have got the money and you have got rid of Hubert. But I +shall punish you." + +"Punish me?" Garvington passed his tongue over his dry lips, and looked +as though in his terror he would go down on his knees to plead. + +"Oh, not by denouncing you to the police," said his sister +contemptuously. "For, bad as you are, I have to consider our family +name. But you had Hubert shot so as to get the money through me, and +now that I am in possession I shall surrender it to the person named +in the sealed envelope." + +"No! No! No! No! Don't--don't--" + +"Yes, I shall. I can do so by marrying Noel. I shall no longer consider +the financial position of the family. I have sacrificed enough, and I +shall sacrifice no more. Hubert was a good husband to me, and I was a +good and loyal wife to him; but his will insults me, and you have made +me your enemy by what you have done." + +"I did not do it. I swear I did not do it." + +"Yes, you did; and no denial on your part will make me believe +otherwise. I shall give you a few days to think over the necessity of +making a confession, and in any case I shall marry Noel." + +"And lose the money. You shan't!" + +"Shan't!" Agnes stepped forward and looked fairly into his shifty eyes. +"You are not in a position to say that, Freddy. I am mistress both of +the situation and of Hubert's millions. Go away," she pushed him toward +the door. "Take time to think over your position, and confess everything +to me." + +Garvington got out of the room as swiftly as his shaky legs could carry +him, and paused at the door to turn with a very evil face. "You daren't +split on me," he screeched. "I defy you! I defy you! You daren't split +on me." + +Alas! Agnes knew that only too well, and when he disappeared she wept +bitterly, feeling her impotence. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE LAST STRAW. + + +Lady Agnes was inaccurate when she informed Miss Greeby that her cousin +had taken a house in Kensington, since, like many women, she was +accustomed to speak in general terms, rather than in a precise way. The +young man certainly did live in the suburb she mentioned, but he had +simply rented a furnished flat in one of the cheaper streets. He was the +poorest of all the Lamberts, and could scarcely pay his club +subscriptions, much less live in the style his ancient name demanded. +The St. James's chambers had merely been lent to him by a friend, and +when the owner returned, the temporary occupant had to shift. Therefore, +on the score of economy, he hired the dingy flat and brought up Mrs. +Tribb to look after it. The little woman, on her master's account, was +disgusted with the mean surroundings. + +"When you ought to be living in a kind of Buckingham Palace, Master +Noel, as I should declare with my dying breath," she said indignantly. +"And have the title, too, if things was as they ought to be." + +"I shouldn't be much better off if I did have the title, Mrs. Tribb," +replied Lambert with a shrug. "It's common knowledge that Garvington can +scarcely keep his head above water. As an old family servant you should +know." + +"Ah, Master Noel, there's many things as I know, as I'm sorry I do +know," said Mrs. Tribb incoherently. "And them lords as is dead and +buried did waste the money, there's no denying. But some of your +cousins, Master Noel, have gone into trade and made money, more shame to +them." + +"I don't see that, Mrs. Tribb. I'd go into trade myself if I had any +head for figures. There's no disgrace in trade." + +"Not for them as isn't Lamberts, Master Noel, and far be it from me to +say so, gentry not being so rich as they used to be when my mother was a +gal. I don't hold with it though for you, sir. But now Lady Agnes having +millions and billions will make things easier for you." + +"Certainly not, Mrs. Tribb. How could I take money from her?" + +"And why not, Master Noel? if you'll excuse my making so free. As a +child she'd give you anything in the way of toys, and as a grown-up, her +head is yours if not her heart, as is--" + +"There! there! Don't talk any more," said Lambert, coloring and vexed. + +"I haven't annoyed you, sir, I hope. It's my heart as speaks." + +"I appreciate the interest you take in the family, Mrs. Tribb, but you +had better leave some things unsaid. Now, go and prepare tea, as Lady +Agnes has written saying she will be here this afternoon." + +"Oh, Master Noel, and you only tell me now. Then there ain't time to +cook them cakes she dotes on." + +But Lambert declined to argue further, and Mrs. Tribb withdrew, +murmuring that she would have to make shift with sardine sandwiches. Her +tongue was assuredly something of a nuisance, but the young man knew how +devoted she was to the family, and, since she had looked after him when +he was a child, he sanctioned in her a freedom he would not have +permitted any one else to indulge in. And it is to be feared, that the +little woman in her zeal sometimes abused her privileges. + +The sitting room was small and cramped, and atrociously furnished in an +overcrowded way. There were patterns on the wall-paper, on the carpet, +on the tablecloth and curtains, until the eye ached for a clean surface +without a design. And there were so many ill-matched colors, misused for +decorative purposes, that Lambert shuddered to the core of his artistic +soul when he beheld them. To neutralize the glaring tints, he pulled +down the blinds of the two windows which looked on to a dull suburban +roadway, and thus shut out the weak sunshine. Then he threw himself into +an uncomfortable arm-chair and sought solace in his briar root. The +future was dark, the present was disagreeable, and the past would not +bear thinking about, so intimately did it deal with the murder of Pine, +the threats of Silver, and the misery occasioned by the sacrifice of +Agnes to the family fetish. It was in the young man's mind to leave +England forthwith and begin a new life, unhampered by former troubles +and present grievances. But Agnes required help and could not be left to +struggle unaided, so Lambert silently vowed again, as he had vowed +before, to stand by her to the end. Yet so far he was unable to see what +the end would be. + +While he thus contemplated the unpleasantness of life he became aware +that the front door bell was ringing, and he heard Mrs. Tribb hurrying +along the passage. So thin were the walls, and so near the door that he +heard also the housekeeper's effusive welcome, which was cut short by a +gasp of surprise. Lambert idly wondered what caused the little woman's +astonishment, but speedily learned when Agnes appeared in the room. With +rare discretion Mrs. Tribb ushered in the visitor and then fled to the +kitchen to wonder why the widow had discarded her mourning. "And him +only planted six months, as you might say," murmured the puzzled woman. +"Whatever will Master Noel say to such goings on?" + +Master Noel said nothing, because he was too astonished to speak, and +Agnes, seeing his surprise, and guessing its cause, waited, somewhat +defiantly, for him to make an observation. She was dressed in a gray +silk frock, with a hat and gloves, and shoes to match, and drew off a +fur-lined cloak of maroon-colored velvet, when she entered the room. Her +face was somewhat pale and her eyes looked unnaturally large, but she +had a resolute expression about her mouth, which showed that she had +made up her mind. Lambert, swift, from long association, to read her +moods, wondered what conclusion she had arrived at, and proceeded to +inquire. + +"Whatever is the meaning of this?" he demanded, considerably startled. + +"This dress?" + +"Of course. Where is your widow's cap and--" + +"In the fire, and there they can remain until they are burned to ashes." + +Lambert stared harder than ever. "What does it mean?" he asked again. + +"It means," said Agnes, replying very directly, "that the victim is no +longer decked out for the sacrifice. It means, that as Hubert insulted +me by his will, I no longer intend to consider his memory." + +"But, Agnes, you respected him. You always said that you did?" + +"Quite so, until his will was read. Then when I found that his mean +jealousy--which was entirely unreasonable--had arranged to rob me of my +income by preventing my marriage with you, I ceased to have any regard +for him. Hubert knew that I loved you, and was content to take me on +those terms so long as I was loyal to him. I _was_ loyal, and did what +I could to show him gratitude for the way in which he helped the family. +Now his will has broken the bargain I respect him no longer, and for +that reason I refuse to pose any longer as a grieving widow." + +"I wonder, with these thoughts, that you posed at all," said Lambert +gloomily, and pushed forward a chair. + +"I could not make up my mind until lately what to do," explained Agnes, +sitting down gracefully, "and while I accepted his money it appeared to +me that I ought to show his memory the outward respect of crape and all +the rest of it. Now," she leaned forward and spoke meaningly, "I am +resolved to surrender the money. That breaks the link between us. The +will! the will!" she tapped an impatient foot on the carpet. "How could +you expect any woman to put up with such an insult?" + +Lambert dropped on the sofa and looked at her hard. "What's up?" he +asked anxiously. "I never saw you like this before." + +"I was not free when you last saw me," she replied dryly. + +"Oh, yes; you were a widow." + +"I mean free, in my own mind, to marry you. I am now. I don't intend to +consider the family or society, or Mr. Silver's threats, or anything +else. I have shaken off my fetters; I have discarded my ring." She +violently pulled off her glove to show that the circle of gold was +absent. "I am free, and I thank God that I am free." + +"Agnes! Agnes! I can't reduce you to poverty by marrying you. It would +not be honorable of me." + +"And would it be honorable on my part for me to keep the money of a man +I despise because his will insults me?" she retorted. + +"We argued all this before." + +"Yes, we did, and concluded to wait until we saw how the estates could +be freed before we came to any conclusion." + +"And do you see now how the estates can be freed without using Pine's +money, Agnes?" asked Lambert anxiously. + +"No. Things are ever so much worse than I thought. Garvington can hold +out for another year, but at the end of twelve months the estates will +be sold up by the person whose name is in the sealed envelope, and he +will be reduced to some hundreds a year. The Lamberts!" she waved her +arm dramatically, "are ruined, my dear; entirely ruined!" + +"And for the simple reason that you wish us to place love before duty." + +Agnes leaned forward and took his hand firmly. "Noel, you love me?" + +"Of course I do." + +"Do you love the family name better?" + +"In one way I wish to save it, in another I am willing to let it go +hang." + +"Yes. Those were my views until three or four days ago." + +"And what caused you to change your mind, dear?" + +"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me." + +"Oh." Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, +has she?" + +"Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service." + +Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greeby +really had meant to renounce her absurd passion for himself, and it was +a relief to find that she had been acting honestly. "Has she then +learned who killed Pine?" he asked cautiously. + +Lady Agnes suddenly rose and began to pace the room, twisting her gloves +and trying to control herself. Usually she was so composed that Lambert +wondered at this restlessness. He wondered still more when she burst +into violent tears, and therefore hastened to draw her back to the +chair. When she was seated he knelt beside her and passed his arm round +her neck, as distressed as she was. It was so unlike Agnes to break down +in this way, and more unlike her to sob brokenly. "Oh, I'm afraid--I'm +afraid." + +"Afraid of what, darling?" + +"I'm afraid to learn who killed my husband. He might have done so, and +yet he only fired the first shot--" + +"Agnes," Lambert rose up suddenly, "are you talking of Garvington?" + +"Yes." She leaned back and dried her tears. "In spite of what he says, +I am afraid he may be guilty." + +Lambert's heart seemed to stand still. "You talk rubbish!" he cried +angrily. + +"I wish it was. Oh, how I wish it was rubbish! But I can't be sure. Of +course, he may have meant what he says--" + +"What does he say? Tell me everything. Oh, heavens!" Lambert clutched +his smooth hair. "What does it all mean?" + +"Ruin to the Lambert family. I told you so." + +"You have only told me scraps so far. I don't understand how you can +arrive at the conclusion that Garvington is guilty. Agnes, don't go on +crying in so unnecessary a way. If things have to be faced, surely we +are strong enough to face them. Don't let our emotions make fools of us. +Stop it! Stop it!" he said sharply and stamping. "Dry your eyes and +explain matters." + +"I--I can't help my feelings," faltered Agnes, beginning to respond to +the spur, and becoming calmer. + +"Yes, you can. I don't offer you brandy or smelling salts, or anything +of the sort, because I know you to be a woman with a firm mind. Exert +your will, and compel your nerves to be calm. This exhibition is too +cheap." + +"Oh," cried Agnes indignantly, and this feeling was the one Lambert +wished to arouse, "how can you talk so?" + +"Because I love you and respect you," he retorted. + +She knew that he meant what he said, and that her firmness of mind and +self-control had always appealed to him, therefore she made a great +effort and subdued her unruly nerves. Lambert gave her no assistance, +and merely walked up and down the room while waiting for her to recover. +It was not easy for her to be herself immediately, as she really was +shaken, and privately considered that he expected too much. But pride +came to her aid, and she gradually became more composed. Meanwhile +Lambert pulled up the blind to display the ugly room in all its +deformity, and the sight--as he guessed it would--extorted an +exclamation from her. + +"Oh, how can you live in this horrid place?" she asked irrelevantly. + +"Necessity knows no law. Are you better?" + +"Yes; I am all right. But you are brutal, Noel." + +"I wouldn't have been brutal to a weaker woman," he answered. "And by +acting as I have done, I show how much I think of you." + +"Rather a strange way of showing approval. But your drastic methods have +triumphed. I am quite composed, and shall tell you of our disgrace in as +unemotional a manner as if I were reckoning pounds, shillings and +pence." + +"Disgrace?" Lambert fastened on the one word anxiously. "To us?" + +"To Garvington in the first place. But sit down and listen. I shall +tell you everything, from the moment Clara came to see me." + +Lambert nodded and resumed his seat. Agnes, with wonderful coolness, +detailed Miss Greeby's visit and production of the letter. Thence she +passed on to explain how she had tricked Garvington into confession. +"But he did not confess," interrupted Lambert at this point. + +"Not at the moment. He did yesterday in a letter to me. You see, he left +my house immediately and slept at his club. Then he went down to The +Manor and sent for Jane, who, by the way, knows nothing of what I have +explained. Here are two letters," added Agnes, taking an envelope out of +her pocket. "One is the forged one, and the other came from Garvington +yesterday. Even though he is not imitating my writing, you can see every +now and then the similarity. Perhaps there is a family resemblance in +our caligraphy." Her cousin examined the two epistles with a rather +scared look, for there was no doubt that things looked black against the +head of the family. However, he did not read Garvington's letter, but +asked Agnes to explain. "What excuse does he make for forging your +name?" asked Lambert in a business-like way, for there was no need to +rage over such a worm as Freddy. + +"A very weak one," she replied. "So weak that I scarcely believe him to +be in earnest. Besides, Freddy always was a liar. He declares that when +he went to see about getting the gypsies turned off the land, he caught +sight of Hubert. He did not speak to him, but learned the truth from +Mr. Silver, whom he forced to speak. Then he wrote the letter and let it +purposely fall into Mr. Silver's hands, and by Mr. Silver it was passed +on to Hubert. Freddy writes that he only wanted to hurt Hubert so that +he might be laid up in bed at The Manor. When he was weak--Hubert, I +mean--Freddy then intended to get all the money he could out of him." + +"He did not wish to kill Pine, then?" + +"No. And all the evidence goes to show that he only broke Hubert's arm." + +"That is true," murmured Lambert thoughtfully, "for the evidence of the +other guests and of the servants showed plainly at the inquest that the +second shot was fired outside while Garvington was indoors." + +Agnes nodded. "Yes; it really seems as though Freddy for once in his +life is telling the exact truth." + +Her cousin glanced at Garvington's lengthy letter of explanation. "Do +you really believe that he hoped to manage Pine during the illness?" + +"Well," said Agnes reluctantly, "Freddy has tremendous faith in his +powers of persuasion. Hubert would do nothing more for him since he was +such a cormorant for money. But if Hubert had been laid up with a broken +arm, it is just possible that he might have been worried into doing what +Freddy wanted, if only to get rid of his importunity." + +"Hum! It sounds weak. Garvington certainly winged Pine, so that seems to +corroborate the statement in this letter. He's such a good shot that he +could easily have killed Pine if he wanted to." + +"Then you don't think that Freddy is responsible for the death?" +inquired Agnes with a look of relief. + +Lambert appeared worried. "I think not, dear. He lured Hubert into +his own private trap so as to get him laid up and extort money. +Unfortunately, another person, aware of the trap, waited outside and +killed your poor husband." + +"According to what Freddy says, Mr. Silver knew of the trap, since he +delivered the letter to Hubert. And Mr. Silver knew that Freddy had +threatened to shoot any possible burglar. It seems to me," ended Agnes +deliberately, "that Mr. Silver is guilty." + +"But why should he shoot Pine, to whom he owed so much?" + +"I can't say." + +"And, remember, Silver was inside the house." + +"Yes," assented Lady Agnes, in dismay. "That is true. It is a great +puzzle, Noel. However, I am not trying to solve it. Clara says that Mr. +Silver will hold his tongue, and certainly as the letter is now in my +possession he cannot bring forward any evidence to show that I am +inculpated in the matter. I think the best thing to do is to let Freddy +and Mr. Silver fight out the matter between them, while we are on our +honeymoon." + +Lambert started. "Agnes! What do you mean?" + +She grew impatient. "Oh, what is the use of asking what I mean when you +know quite well, Noel? Hubert insulted me in his will, and cast a slur +on my character by forbidding me to marry you. Freddy--although he did +not fire the second shot--certainly lured Hubert to his death by forging +that letter. I don't intend to consider my husband's memory any more, +nor my brother's position. I shall never speak to him again if I can +help it, as he is a wicked little animal. I have sacrificed myself +sufficiently, and now I intend to take my own way. Let the millions go, +and let Freddy be ruined, if only to punish him for his wickedness." + +"But, dear, how can I ask you to share my poverty?" said Lambert, +greatly distressed. "I have only five hundred a year, and you have been +accustomed to such luxury." + +"I have another five hundred a year of my own," said Agnes obstinately, +"which Hubert settled on me for pin money. He refused to make any other +settlements. I have a right to that money, since I sacrificed so much, +and I shall keep it. Surely we can live on one thousand a year." + +"In England?" inquired Lambert doubtfully. "And after you have led such +a luxurious life?" + +"No," she said quickly. "I mean in the Colonies. Let us go to Australia, +or Canada, or South Africa, I don't care which, and cut ourselves off +from the past. We have suffered enough; let us now think of ourselves." + +"But are we not selfish to let the family name be disgraced?" + +"Freddy is selfish, and will disgrace it in any case," said Agnes, with +a contemptuous shrug. "What's the use of pulling him out of the mud, +when he will only sink back into it again? No, Noel, if you love me you +will marry me within the week." + +"But it's so sudden, dear," he urged, more and more distressed. "Take +time to consider. How can I rob you of millions?" + +"You won't rob me. If you refuse, I shall make over the money to some +charity, and live on my five hundred a year. Remember, Noel, what people +think of me: that I married Hubert to get his money and to become your +wife when he died, so that we could live on his wealth. We can only +prove that belief to be false by surrendering the millions and marrying +as paupers." + +"You may be right, and yet--" + +"And yet, and yet--oh," she cried, wounded, "you don't love me." + +The man did not answer, but stood looking at her with all his soul in +his eyes, and shaking from head to foot. Never before had she looked so +desirable, and never before had he felt the tides of love surge to so +high a Water-mark. "Love you!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Agnes, I +would give my soul for you." + +"Then give it." She wreathed her arms round his neck and whispered with +her warm lips close to his ear, "Give me all of you." + +"But two millions--" + +"You are worth it." + +"Darling, you will repent." + +"Repent!" She pressed him closer to her. "Repent that I exchange a +lonely life for companionship with you? Oh, my dear, how can you think +so? I am sick of money and sick of loneliness. I want you, you, you! +Noel, Noel, it is your part to woo, and here am I making all the love." + +"It is such a serious step for you to take." + +"It is the only step that I can take. I am known as a mercenary woman, +and until we marry and give up the money, everybody will think +scornfully of me. Besides, Freddy must be punished, and in no other way +can I make him suffer so much as by depriving him of the wealth he +sinned to obtain." + +"Yes. There is that view, certainly. And," Lambert gasped, "I love +you--oh, never doubt that, my darling." + +"I shall," she whispered ardently, "unless you get a special license +and marry me straightaway." + +"But Garvington and Silver--" + +"And Clara Greeby and Chaldea, who both love you," she mocked. "Let them +all fight out their troubles alone. I have had enough suffering; so have +you. So there's no more to be said. Now, sir," she added playfully, +"wilt thou take this woman to be thy wedded wife?" + +"Yes," he said, opening his arms and gathering Agnes to his heart. "But +what will people say of your marrying so soon after Pine's death?" + +"Let them say what they like and do what they like. We are going to the +Colonies and will be beyond reach of slanderous tongues. Now, let us +have tea, Noel, for I am hungry and thirsty, and quite tired out with +trying to convince you of my earnestness." + +Lambert rang for the tea. "Shall we tell Jarwin that we intend to +marry?" + +"No. We shall tell no one until we are married," she replied, and kissed +him once, twice, thrice, and again, until Mrs. Tribb entered with the +tray. Then they both sat demurely at the first of many meals which they +hoped would be the start of a new Darby and Joan existence. + +And the outcome of the interview and of the decision that was arrived at +appeared in a letter to Mr. Jarwin, of Chancery Lane. A week later he +received a communication signed by Agnes Lambert, in which she stated +that on the preceding day she had married her cousin by special license. +Mr. Jarwin had to read the epistle twice before he could grasp the +astounding fact that the woman had paid two millions for a husband. + +"She's mad, crazy, silly, insane," murmured the lawyer, then his eyes +lighted up with curiosity. "Now I shall know the name of the person in +the sealed letter who inherits," and he forthwith proceeded to his safe. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +ON THE TRAIL. + + +Great was the excitement in society when it became known--through the +medium of a newspaper paragraph--that Lady Agnes Pine had surrendered +two millions sterling to become Mrs. Noel Lambert. Some romantic people +praised her as a noble woman, who placed love above mere money, while +others loudly declared her to be a superlative fool. But one and all +agreed that she must have loved her cousin all the time, and that +clearly the marriage with the deceased millionaire had been forced on +by Garvington, for family reasons connected with the poverty of the +Lamberts. It was believed that the fat little egotist had obtained his +price for selling his sister, and that his estates had been freed from +all claims through the generosity of Pine. Of course, this was not the +case; but the fact was unknown to the general public, and Garvington was +credited with an income which he did not possess. + +The man himself was furious at having been tricked. He put it in this +way, quite oblivious to his own actions, which had brought about such a +result. He could not plead ignorance on this score, as Agnes had written +him a letter announcing her marriage, and plainly stating her reasons +for giving up her late husband's fortune. She ironically advised him to +seek out the person to whom the money would pass, and to see if he could +not plunder that individual. Garvington, angry as he was, took the +advice seriously, and sought out Jarwin. But that astute individual +declined to satisfy his curiosity, guessing what use he would make of +the information. In due time, as the solicitor said, the name of the +lucky legatee would be made public, and with this assurance Garvington +was obliged to be content. + +Meanwhile the happy pair--and they truly were extremely happy--heard +nothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame. +They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, on +the south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert had +discovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of the +moorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of the +honeymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by a +gigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak," as Noel +called her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, since +Agnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position. + +"And in the Colonies," she explained to her husband, during a moorland +ramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady.' Mrs. Noel +Lambert is good enough for me." + +"Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies." + +"We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on." + +"Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad," he answered good-humoredly. "It +may seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; but +all my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds a +week." + +"You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But remember +that I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul." + +"Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve. +Besides I hope to make a name as a painter." + +"In the Colonies?" + +"Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene does +not destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling, +if it is wise to leave England--at least until we learn who murdered +Pine." + +"Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth will +never become known." + +"It must become known, Agnes," said Lambert firmly. "Remember that +Silver and Chaldea practically accuse us of murdering your husband." + +"They know it is a lie, and won't proceed further," said Agnes +hopefully. + +"Oh, yes, they will, and Miss Greeby also." + +"Clara! Why, she is on our side." + +"Indeed she is not. Your guess that she was still in love with me turns +out to be quite correct. I received a letter from her this morning, +which was forwarded from Kensington. She reproaches me with marrying you +after the trouble she took in getting the forged letter back from +Silver." + +"But you told me that she said she would help you as a friend." + +"She did so, in order--to use an expressive phrase--to pull the wool +over my eyes. But she intended--and she puts her intention plainly in +her letter--to help me in order to secure my gratitude, and then she +counted upon my making her my wife." + +Agnes flushed. "I might have guessed that she would act in that way. +When you told me that she was helping I had a suspicion what she was +aiming at. What else does she say?" + +"Oh, all manner of things, more or less silly. She hints that I have +acted meanly in causing you to forfeit two millions, and says that no +man of honor would act in such a way." + +"I see," said Mrs. Lambert coolly. "She believed that my possession of +the money would be even a greater barrier to our coming together than +the fact of my being married to Hubert. Well, dear, what does it +matter?" + +"A great deal, Agnes," replied Noel, wrinkling his brows. "She intends +to make mischief, and she can, with the aid of Silver, who is naturally +furious at having lost his chance of blackmail. Then there's Chaldea--" + +"She can do nothing." + +"She can join forces with Miss Greeby and the secretary, and they will +do their best to get us into trouble. To defend ourselves we should have +to explain that Garvington wrote the letter, and then heaven only knows +what disgrace would befall the name." + +"But you don't believe that Freddy is guilty?" asked Agnes anxiously. + +"Oh, no. Still, he wrote that letter which lured Pine to his death, and +if such a mean act became known, he would be disgraced forever." + +"Freddy has such criminal instincts," said Mrs. Lambert gloomily, "that +I am quite sure he will sooner or later stand in the dock." + +"We must keep him out of it as long as we can," said Noel decisively. +"For that reason I intend to leave you here and go to Garvington." + +"To see Freddy?" + +"Yes, and to see Chaldea, and to call on Silver, who is living in my old +cottage. Also I wish to have a conversation with Miss Greeby. In some +way, my dear, I must settle these people, or they will make trouble. +Have you noticed, Agnes, what a number of gypsies seem to cross our +path?" + +"Yes; but there are many gypsies in Devonshire." + +"No doubt, but many gypsies do not come to this retired spot as a rule, +and yet they seem to swarm. Chaldea is having us watched." + +"For what reason?" Agnes opened her astonished eyes. + +"I wish to learn. Chaldea is now a queen, and evidently has sent +instructions to her kinsfolk in this county to keep an eye on us." + +Agnes ruminated for a few minutes. "I met Mother Cockleshell yesterday," +she observed; "but I thought nothing of it, as she belongs to +Devonshire." + +"I believe Mother Cockleshell is on our side, dear, since she is so +grateful to you for looking after her when she was sick. But Kara has +been hovering about, and we know that he is Chaldea's lover." + +"Then," said Mrs. Lambert, rising from the heather on which they had +seated themselves, "it will be best to face Mother Cockleshell and Kara +in order to learn what all this spying means." + +Lambert approved of this suggestion, and the two returned to Mrs. +"Anak's" abode to watch for the gypsies. But, although they saw two or +three, or even more during the next few days, they did not set eyes on +the Servian dwarf, or on Gentilla Stanley. Then--since it never rains +but it pours--the two came together to the inn. Agnes saw them through +the sitting-room window, and walked out boldly to confront them. Noel +was absent at the moment, so she had to conduct the examination entirely +alone. + +"Gentilla, why are you spying on me and my husband?" asked Agnes +abruptly. + +The respectable woman dropped a curtsey and clutched the shoulder of +Kara, who showed a disposition to run away. "I'm no spy, my angel," said +the old creature with a cunning glint in her eyes. "It's this one who +keeps watch." + +"For what reason?" + +"Bless you, my lady--" + +"Don't call me by my title. I've dropped it." + +"Only for a time, my dear. I have read your fortune in the stars, my +Gorgio one, and higher you will be with money and rank than ever you +have been in past days. But not with the child's approval." + +"The child. What child?" + +"Chaldea, no less. She's raging mad, as the golden rye has made you his +romi, my sweet one, and she has set many besides Kara to overlook you." + +"So Mr. Lambert and I thought. And Chaldea's reason?" + +"She would make trouble," replied Mother Cockleshell mysteriously. "But +Kara does not wish her to love the golden rye--as she still does--since +he would have the child to himself." She turned and spoke rapidly in +Romany to the small man in the faded green coat. + +Kara listened with twinkling eyes, and pulling at his heavy beard with +one hand, while he held the neck of his violin with the other. When +Mother Cockleshell ceased he poured out a flood of the kalo jib with +much gesticulation, and in a voice which boomed like a gong. Of course, +Mrs. Lambert did not understand a word of his speech, and looked +inquiringly at Gentilla. + +"Kara says," translated the woman hurriedly, "that he is your friend, +since he is glad you are the golden rye's romi. Ever since you left +Lundra the child has set him and others to spy on you. She makes +mischief, does the child in her witchly way." + +"Ask him," said Agnes, indicating the dwarf, "if he knows who murdered +my late husband?" + +Gentilla asked the question and translated the reply. "He knows nothing, +but the child knows much. I go back to the wood in Hengishire, my dear, +to bring about much that will astonish Chaldea--curses on her evil +heart. Tell the rye to meet me at his old cottage in a week. Then the +wrong will be made right," ended Mother Cockleshell, speaking quite in +the style of Meg Merrilees, and very grandiloquently. "And happiness +will be yours. By this and this I bless you, my precious lady," making +several mystical signs, she turned away, forcing the reluctant Kara to +follow her. + +"But, Gentilla?" Agnes hurried in pursuit. + +"No! no, my Gorgious. It is not the time. Seven days, and seven hours, +and seven minutes will hear the striking of the moment. Sarishan, my +deary." + +Mother Cockleshell hobbled away with surprising alacrity, and Mrs. +Lambert returned thoughtfully to the inn. Evidently the old woman knew +of something which would solve the mystery, else she would scarcely have +asked Noel to meet her in Hengishire. And being an enemy to Chaldea, who +had deposed her, Agnes was quite sure that Gentilla would work her +hardest to thwart the younger gypsy's plans. It flashed across her mind +that Chaldea herself might have murdered Pine. But since his death would +have removed the barrier between Lambert and herself, Agnes could not +believe that Chaldea was guilty. The affair seemed to become more +involved every time it was looked into. + +However, Mrs. Lambert related to her husband that same evening all that +had taken place, and duly delivered the old gypsy's message. Noel +listened quietly and nodded. He made up his mind to keep the appointment +in Abbot's Wood the moment he received the intelligence. "And you can +stay here, Agnes," he said. + +"No, no," she pleaded. "I wish to be beside you." + +"There may be danger, my dear. Chaldea will not stick at a trifle to +revenge herself, you know." + +"All the more reason that I should be with you," insisted Agnes. +"Besides, these wretches are plotting against me as much as against you, +so it is only fair that I should be on the spot to defend myself." + +"You have a husband to defend you now, Agnes. Still, as I know you will +be anxious if I leave you in this out-of-the-way place, it will be best +for us both to go to London. There is a telephone at Wanbury, and I can +communicate with you at once should it be necessary." + +"Of course it will be necessary," said Mrs. Lambert with fond +impatience. "I shall worry dreadfully to think that you are in danger. +I don't wish to lose you now that we are together." + +"You can depend upon my keeping out of danger, for your sake, dear," +said the young man, caressing her. "Moreover, Mother Cockleshell will +look after me should Chaldea try any of her Romany tricks. Stay in town, +darling." + +"Oh, dear me, that flat is so dingy, and lonely, and disagreeable." + +"You shan't remain at the flat. There's a very pleasant hotel near Hyde +Park where we can put up." + +"It's so expensive." + +"Never mind the expense, just now. When everything is square we can +consider economy. But I shall not be easy in my mind until poor Pine's +murderer is in custody." + +"I only hope Garvington won't be found to be an accomplice," said Agnes, +with a shiver. "Bad as he is, I can't help remembering that he is my +brother." + +"And the head of the Lamberts," added her husband gravely. "You may be +sure that I shall try and save the name from disgrace." + +"It's a dismal ending to our honeymoon." + +"Let us look upon it as the last hedge of trouble which has to be +jumped." + +Agnes laughed at this quaint way of putting things, and cheered up. For +the next few days they did their best to enjoy to the full the golden +hours of love, and peace which remained, and then departed, to the +unfeigned regret of Mrs. "Anak." But present pleasure meant future +trouble, so the happy pair--and they were happy in spite of the lowering +clouds--were forced to leave their temporary paradise in order to baffle +their enemies. Miss Greeby, Chaldea, Silver, and perhaps Garvington, +were all arrayed against them, so a conflict could not possibly be +avoided. + +Agnes took up her abode in the private hotel near the Park which Lambert +had referred to, and was very comfortable, although she did not enjoy +that luxury with which Pine's care had formerly surrounded her. Having +seen that she had all she required, Noel took the train to Wanbury, and +thence drove in a hired fly to Garvington, where he put up at the +village inn. It was late at night when he arrived, so it might have been +expected that few would have noted his coming. This was true, but among +the few was Chaldea, who still camped with her tribe in Abbot's Wood. +Whosoever now owned the property on mortgage, evidently did not desire +to send the gypsies packing, and, of course, Garvington, not having the +power, could not do so. + +Thus it happened that while Lambert was breakfasting next morning, +somewhere about ten o'clock, word was brought to him by the landlady +that a gypsy wished to see him. The young man at once thought that +Mother Cockleshell had called to adjust the situation, and gave orders +that she should be admitted. He was startled and ill-pleased when +Chaldea made her appearance. She looked as handsome as ever, but her +face wore a sullen, vicious look, which augured ill for a peaceful +interview. + +"So you cheated me after all, rye?" was her greeting, and her eyes +sparkled with anger at the sight of the man she had lost. + +"Don't be a fool, girl," said Lambert, purposely rough, for her +persistence irritated him. "You know that I never loved you." + +"Am I so ugly then?" demanded the girl bitterly. + +"That remark is beside the point," said the man coldly. "And I am not +going to discuss such things with you. But I should like to know why you +set spies on me when I was in Devonshire?" + +Chaldea's eyes sparkled still more, and she taunted him. "Oh, the clever +one that you are, to know that I had you watched. Aye, and I did, my +rye. From the time you left the cottage you were under the looks of my +people." + +"Why, may I ask?" + +"Because I want revenge," cried Chaldea, stepping forward and striking +so hard a blow on the table that the dishes jumped. "You scorned me, and +now you shall pay for that scorn." + +"Don't be melodramatic, please. What can you do to harm me, I should +like to know, you silly creature?" + +"I can prove that you murdered my brother Hearne." + +"Oh, can you, and in what way?" + +"I have the bullet which killed him," said the gypsy, speaking very fast +so as to prevent interruption. "Kara knifed it out of the tree-trunk +which grows near the shrubbery. If I take it to the police and it fits +your pistol, then where will you be, my precious cheat?" + +Lambert looked at her thoughtfully. If she really did possess the bullet +he would be able to learn if Garvington had fired the second shot, since +it would fit the barrel of his revolver. So far as he was concerned, +when coming to live in the Abbot's Wood Cottage, he had left all his +weapons stored in London, and would be able to prove that such was the +case. He did not fear for himself, as Chaldea's malice could not hurt +him in this way, but he wondered if it would be wise to take her to The +Manor, where Garvington was in residence, in order to test the fitting +of the bullet. Finally, he decided to risk doing so, as in this way he +might be able to force the girl's hand and learn how much she really +knew. If aware that Garvington was the culprit, she would exhibit no +surprise did the bullet fit the barrel of that gentleman's revolver. And +should it be proved that she knew the truth, she would not dare to say +anything to the police, lest she should be brought into the matter, as +an accomplice after the fact. Chaldea misunderstood his silence, while +he was thinking in this way, and smiled mockingly with a toss of her +head. + +"Ah, the rye is afraid. His sin has come home to him," she sneered. +"Hai, you are at my feet now, my Gorgious one." + +"I think not," said Lambert coolly, and rose to put on his cap. "Come +with me, Chaldea. We go to The Manor." + +"And what would I do in the boro rye's ken, my precious?" + +Lambert ignored the question. "Have you the bullet with you?" + +"Avali," Chaldea nodded. "It lies in my pocket." + +"Then we shall see at The Manor if it fits the pistol." + +"Hai! you have left the shooter at the big house," said the girl, +falling into the trap, and thereby proved--to Lambert at least--that she +was really in the dark as regards the true criminal. + +"Lord Garvington has a revolver of mine," said the young man evasively, +although the remark was a true one, since he had presented his cousin +with a brace of revolvers some twelve months before. + +Chaldea looked at him doubtfully. "And if the bullet fits--" + +"Then you can do what you like," retorted Lambert tartly. "Come on. +I can't wait here all day listening to the rubbish you talk." + +The gypsy followed him sullenly enough, being overborne by his +peremptory manner, and anxious, if possible, to bring home the crime to +him. What she could not understand, for all her cleverness, was, why he +should be so eager to condemn himself, and so went to The Manor on the +lookout for treachery. Chaldea always judged other people by herself, +and looked upon treachery as quite necessary on certain occasions. Had +she guessed the kind of trap which Lambert was laying for her, it is +questionable if she would have fallen into it so easily. And Lambert, +even at this late hour, could not be certain if she really regarded him +as guilty, or if she was only bluffing in order to gain her ends. + +Needless to say, Garvington did not welcome his cousin enthusiastically +when he entered the library to find him waiting with Chaldea beside him. +The fat little man rushed in like a whirlwind, and, ignoring his own +shady behavior, heaped reproaches on Lambert's head. + +"I wonder you have the cheek to come here," he raged. "You and this +beast of a girl. I want no gypsies in my house, I can tell you. And +you've lost me a fortune by your selfish behavior." + +"I don't think we need talk of selfishness when you are present, +Garvington." + +"Why not? By marrying Agnes you have made her give up the money." + +"She wished to give it up to punish you," said Lambert rebukingly. + +"To punish me!" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his +head. "And what have I done?" + +Lambert laughed and shrugged his shoulders. In the face of this dense +egotism, it was impossible to argue in any way. He dismissed the subject +and got to business, as he did not wish to remain longer in Garvington's +society than was absolutely necessary. + +"This girl," he said abruptly, indicating Chaldea, who stood passively +at his elbow, "has found the bullet with which Pine was shot." + +"Kara found it, my boro rye," put in the gypsy quickly, and addressing +Lord Garvington, who gurgled out his surprises, "in the tree-trunk." + +"Ah, yes," interrupted the other. "The elm which is near the shrubbery. +Then why didn't you give the bullet to the police?" + +"Do you ask that, Garvington?" inquired Lambert meaningly, and the +little man whirled round to answer with an expression of innocent +surprise. + +"Of course I do," he vociferated, growing purple with resentment. "You +don't accuse me of murdering the man who was so useful to me, I hope?" + +"I shall answer that very leading question when you bring out the +revolver with which you shot Pine on that night." + +"I only winged him," cried Garvington indignantly. "The second shot was +fired by some unknown person, as was proved clearly enough at the +inquest." + +"All the same, I wish you to produce the revolver." + +"Why?" The host looked suspicious and even anxious. + +It was Chaldea who replied, and when doing so she fished out the +battered bullet. "To see if this fits the barrel of the pistol which the +golden rye gave you, my great one," said she significantly. + +Garvington started, his color changed and he stole a queer look at the +impassive face of his cousin. "The pistol which the golden rye gave me?" +he repeated slowly and weighing the words. "Did you give me one, Noel?" + +"I gave you a couple in a case," answered Lambert without mentioning the +date of the present. "And if this bullet fits the one you used--" + +"It will prove nothing," interrupted the other hurriedly, and with a +restless movement. "I fired from the doorstep, and my bullet, after +breaking Pine's arm, must have vanished into the beyond. The shot which +killed him was fired from the shrubbery, and, it is quite easy to guess +how it passed through him and buried itself in the tree which was in the +line of fire." + +"I want to see the pistols," said Lambert insistently, and this time +Chaldea looked at him, wondering why he was so anxious to condemn +himself. + +"Oh, very well," snapped Garvington, with some reluctance, and walked +toward the door. There he paused, and evidently awaited to arrive at +some conclusion, the nature of which his cousin could not guess. "Oh, +very well," he said again, and left the room. + +"He thinks that you are a fool, as I do, my Gorgious," said Chaldea +scornfully. "You wish to hang yourself it seems, my rye." + +"Oh, I don't think that I shall be the one to be hanged. Tell me, +Chaldea, do you really believe that I am guilty?" + +"Yes," said the girl positively. "And if you had married me I should +have saved you." + +Lambert laughed, but was saved the trouble of a reply by the return of +Garvington, who trotted in to lay a mahogany case on the table. Opening +this, he took out a small revolver of beautiful workmanship. Chaldea, +desperately anxious to bring home the crime to Lambert, hastily snatched +the weapon from the little man's hand and slipped the bullet into one of +the chambers. It fitted--making allowance for its battered +condition--precisely. She uttered a cry of triumph. "So you did shoot +the Romany, my bold one," was her victorious speech. + +"Because the bullet fits the barrel of a revolver I gave to my cousin +some twelve months ago?" he inquired, smiling. + +Chaldea's face fell. "Twelve months ago!" she echoed, greatly +disappointed. + +"Yes, as Lord Garvington can swear to. So I could not have used the +weapon on that night, you see." + +"I used it," admitted Garvington readily enough. "And winged Pine." + +"Exactly. But I gave you a brace of revolvers of the same make. The +bullet which would fit one--as it does--would fit the other. I see there +is only one in the case. Where is the other?" + +Garvington's color changed and he shuffled with his feet. "I lent it to +Silver," he said in a low voice, and reluctantly. + +"Was it in Silver's possession on the night Pine was shot?" + +"Must have been. He borrowed it a week before because he feared +burglars." + +"Then," said Lambert coolly, and drawing a breath of relief, for the +tension had been great, "the inference is obvious. Silver shot Hubert +Pine." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +AN AMAZING ACCUSATION. + + +"Beng in tutes bukko!" swore Chaldea in good Romany, meaning that she +wished the devil was in some one's body. And she heartily meant what she +said, and cared little which of the two men's interior was occupied by +the enemy of mankind, since she hated both. The girl was disappointed to +think that Lambert should escape from her snare, and enraged that +Garvington's production of one revolver and his confession that Silver +had the other tended to this end. "May the pair of you burn in hell," +she cried, taking to English, so that they could understand the insult. +"Ashes may you be in the Crooked One's furnace." + +Lambert shrugged his shoulders, as he quite understood her feelings, and +did not intend to lower himself by correcting her. He addressed himself +to his cousin and turned his back on the gypsy. "Silver shot Hubert +Pine," he repeated, with his eyes on Garvington's craven face. + +"It's impossible--impossible!" returned the other hurriedly. "Silver was +shut up in the house with the rest. I saw to the windows and doors +myself, along with the butler and footmen. At the inquest--" + +"Never mind about the inquest. I know what you said there, and I am now +beginning to see why you said it." + +"What the devil do you mean?" + +"I mean," stated the other, staring hard at him, "that you knew Silver +was guilty when the inquest took place, and screened him for some +reason." + +"I didn't know; I swear I didn't know!" stuttered Garvington, wiping his +heated face, and with his lower lip trembling. + +"You must have done so," replied Lambert relentlessly. "This bullet will +fit both the revolvers I gave you, and as you passed on one to Silver--" + +"Rubbish! Bosh! Nonsense!" babbled the little man incoherently. "Until +you brought the bullet I never knew that it would fit the revolver." + +This was true, as Lambert admitted. However, he saw that Garvington was +afraid for some reason, and pressed his advantage. "Now that you see how +it fits, you must be aware that it could only have been fired from the +revolver which you gave Silver." + +"I don't see that," protested Garvington. "That bullet may fit many +revolvers." + +Lambert shook his head. "I don't think so. I had that brace of revolvers +especially manufactured, and the make is peculiar. I am quite prepared +to swear that the bullet would fit no other weapon. And--and"--he +hesitated, then faced the girl, who lingered, sullen and disappointed. +"You can go, Chaldea," said Lambert, pointing to the French window of +the library, which was wide open. + +The gypsy sauntered toward it, clutching her shawl and gritting her +white teeth together. "Oh, I go my ways, my rye, but I have not done +with you yet, may the big devil rack my bones if I have. You win +to-day--I win to-morrow, and so good day to you, and curses on you for +a bad one. The devil is a nice character--and that's you!" she screamed, +beside herself with rage. "The puro beng is a fino mush, if you will +have the kalo jib!" and with a wild cry worthy of a banshee she +disappeared and was seen running unsteadily across the lawn. Lambert +shrugged his shoulders again and turned to his miserable cousin, who had +sat down with a dogged look on his fat face. "I have got rid of her +because I wish to save the family name from disgrace," said Lambert +quietly. + +"There is no disgrace on my part. Remember to whom you are speaking." + +"I do. I speak to the head of the family, worse luck! You have done your +best to trail our name in the mud. You altered a check which Pine gave +you so as to get more money; you forged his name to a mortgage--" + +"Lies, lies, the lies of Agnes!" screamed Garvington, jumping up and +shaking his fist in puny anger. "The wicked--" + +"Speak properly of my wife, or I'll wring your neck," said Lambert +sharply. "As to what she told me being lies, it is only too true, as you +know. I read the letter you wrote confessing that you had lured Pine +here to be shot by telling falsehoods about Agnes and me." + +"I only lured him to get his arm broken so that I might nurse him when +he was ill and get some money," growled Garvington, sitting down again. + +"I am well aware of what you did and how you did it. But you gave that +forged letter to Silver so that it might be passed on to Pine." + +"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!" + +"You did. And because Silver knew too much you gave him the Abbot's Wood +Cottage at a cheap rent, or at no rent at all, for all I know. To be +quite plain, Garvington, you conspired with Silver to have Pine killed." + +"Winged--only winged, I tell you. I never shot him." + +"Your accomplice did." + +"He's not my accomplice. He was in the house--everything was locked up." + +"By you," said Lambert quickly. "So it was easy for you to leave a +window unfastened, so that Silver might get outside to hide in the +shrubbery." + +"Oh!" Garvington jumped up again, looking both pale and wicked. "You +want to put a rope round my neck, curse you." + +"That's a melodramatic speech which is not true," replied the other +coldly. "For I want to save you, or, rather, our name, from disgrace. +I won't call in the police"--Garvington winced at this word--"because +I wish to hush the matter up. But since Chaldea and Silver accuse me +and accuse Agnes of getting rid of Pine so that we might marry, it is +necessary that I should learn the exact truth." + +"I don't know it. I know nothing more than I have confessed." + +"You are such a liar that I can't believe you. However, I shall go at +once to Silver and you shall come with me." + +"I shan't!" Garvington, who was overfed and flabby and unable to hold +his own against a determined man, settled himself in his chair and +looked as obstinate as a battery mule. + +"Oh, yes, you will, you little swine," said Lambert freezingly cold. + +"How dare you call me names?" + +"Names! If I called you those you deserved I should have to annex the +vocabulary of a Texan muledriver. How such a beast as you ever got into +our family I can't conceive." + +"I am the head of the family and I order you to leave the room." + +"Oh, you do, do you? Very good. Then I go straight to Wanbury and shall +tell what I have discovered to Inspector Darby." + +"No! No! No! No!" Garvington, cornered at last, sprang from his chair +and made for his cousin with unsteady legs. "It might be unpleasant." + +"I daresay--to you. Well, will you come with me to Abbot's Wood?" + +"Yes," whimpered Garvington. "Wait till I get my cap and stick, curse +you, for an interfering beast. You don't know what you're doing." + +"Ah! then you do know something likely to reveal the truth." + +"I don't--I swear I don't! I only--" + +"Oh, damn you, get your cap, and let us be off," broke in Lambert +angrily, "for I can't be here all day listening to your lies." + +Garvington scowled and ambled out of the room, closely followed by his +cousin, who did not think it wise to lose sight of so shifty a person. +In a few minutes they were out of the house and took the path leading +from the blue door to the postern gate in the brick wall surrounding the +park. It was a frosty, sunny day, with a hard blue sky, overarching a +wintry landscape. A slight fall of snow had powdered the ground with a +film of white, and the men's feet drummed loudly on the iron earth, +which was in the grip of the frost. Garvington complained of the cold, +although he had on a fur overcoat which made him look like a baby bear. + +"You'll give me my death of cold, dragging me out like this," he moaned, +as he trotted beside his cousin. "I believe you want me to take +pneumonia so that I may die and leave you the title." + +"I should at least respect it more than you do," said Lambert with +scorn. "Why can't you be a man instead of a thing on two legs? If you +did die no one would miss you but cooks and provision dealers." + +Garvington gave him a vicious glance from his little pig's eyes, and +longed to be tall, and strong, and daring, so that he might knock him +down. But he knew that Lambert was muscular and dexterous, and would +probably break his neck if it came to a tussle. Therefore, as the stout +little lord had a great regard for his neck, he judged it best to yield +to superior force, and trotted along obediently enough. Also he became +aware within himself that it would be necessary to explain to Silver how +he had come to betray him, and that would not be easy. Silver would be +certain to make himself extremely disagreeable. Altogether the walk was +not a pleasant one for the sybarite. + +The Abbot's Wood looked bare and lean with the leaves stripped from its +many trees. Occasionally there was a fir, clothed in dark green foliage, +but for the most part the branches of the trees were naked, and quivered +constantly in the chilly breeze. Even on the outskirts of the wood one +could see right into the centre where the black monoliths--they looked +black against the snow--reared themselves grimly. To the right there was +a glimpse of gypsy fires and tents and caravans, and the sound of the +Romany tongue was borne toward them through the clear atmosphere. On +such a day it was easy both to see and hear for long distances, and for +this reason Chaldea became aware that the two men were walking toward +the cottage. + +The girl, desperately angry that she had been unable to bring Lambert to +book, had sauntered back to the camp, but had just reached it when she +caught sight of the tall figure and the short one. In a moment she knew +that Lambert and his cousin were making for Silver's abode, which was +just what she had expected them to do. At once she determined to again +adopt her former tactics, which had been successful in enabling her to +overhear the conversation between Lambert and Lady Agnes, and, following +at a respectful distance, she waited for her chance. It came when the +pair entered the cottage, for then Chaldea ran swiftly in a circle +toward the monoliths, and crouched down behind one. While peering from +behind this shelter, she saw Silver pass the window of the studio, and +felt certain that the interview, would take place in that room. Like a +serpent, as she was, the girl crawled and wriggled through the frozen +vegetation and finally managed to get under the window without being +observed. The window was closed, but by pressing her ear close to the +woodwork she was enabled to hear a great deal, if not all. Candidly +speaking, Chaldea had truly believed that Lambert had shot Pine, but +now that he had disproved the charge so easily, she became desperately +anxious to learn the truth. Lambert had escaped her, but she thought +that it might be possible to implicate his wife in the crime, which +would serve her purpose of injuring him just as well. + +Silver was not surprised to see his landlord, as it seemed that +Garvington paid him frequent visits. But he certainly showed an uneasy +amazement when Lambert stalked in behind the fat little man. Silver was +also small, and also cowardly, and also not quite at rest in his +conscience, so he shivered when he met the very direct gaze of his +unwelcome visitor. + +"You have come to look at your old house, Mr. Lambert," he remarked, +when the two made themselves comfortable by the studio fire. + +"Not at all. I have come to see you," was the grim response. + +"That is an unexpected honor," said Silver uneasily, and his eyes sought +those of Lord Garvington, who was spreading out his hands to the blaze, +looking blue with cold. He caught Silver's inquiring look. + +"I couldn't help it," said Garvington crossly. "I must look after +myself." + +Silver's smooth, foxy face became livid, and he could scarcely speak. +When he did, it was with a sickly smile. "Whatever are you talking +about, my lord?" + +"Oh, you know, d---- you! I did give you that revolver, you know." + +"The revolver?" Silver stared. "Yes, why should I deny it? I suppose you +have come to get it back?" + +"I have come to get it, Mr. Silver," put in Lambert politely. "Hand it +over to me, if you please." + +"If you like. It certainly has your name on the handle," said the +secretary so quietly that the other man was puzzled. Silver did not seem +to be so uncomfortable as he might have been. + +"The revolver was one of a pair which I had especially made when I went +to Africa some years ago," explained Lambert elaborately, and determined +to make his listener understand the situation thoroughly. "On my return +I made them a present to my cousin. I understand, Mr. Silver, that Lord +Garvington lent you one--" + +"And kept the other," interrupted the man sharply. "That is true. I was +afraid of burglars, since Lord Garvington was always talking about them, +so I asked him to lend me a weapon to defend myself with." + +"And you used it to shoot Pine," snapped Garvington, anxious to end his +suspense and get the interview over as speedily as possible. + +Silver rose from his seat in an automatic manner, and turned delicately +pale. "Are you mad?" he gasped, looking from one man to the other. + +"It's all very well you talking," whimpered Garvington with a shiver; +"but Pine was shot with that revolver I lent you." + +"It's a lie!" + +"Oh, I knew you'd say that," complained Garvington, shivering again. +"But I warned you that there might be trouble, since you carried that +letter for me, so that it might fall by chance into Pine's hands." + +"Augh!" groaned Silver, sinking back into his chair and passing his +tongue over a pair of dry, gray lips. "Hold your tongue, my lord." + +"What's the use? He knows," and Garvington jerked his head in the +direction of his cousin. "The game's up, Silver--the game's up!" + +"Oh!" Silver's eyes flashed, and he looked like a rat at bay. "So you +intend to save yourself at my expense. But it won't do, my lord. You +wrote that letter, if I carried it to the camp." + +"I have admitted to my sister and to Lambert, here, that I wrote the +letter, Silver. I had to, or get into trouble with the police, since +neither of them will listen to reason. But you suggested the plan to get +Pine winged so that he might be ill in my house, and then we could both +get money out of him. You invented the plot, and I only wrote the +letter." + +"Augh! Augh!" gulped Silver, unable to speak plainly. + +"Do you confess the truth of Lord Garvington's statement?" inquired +Lambert suavely, and fixing a merciless eye on the trapped fox. + +"No--that is--yes. He swings on the same hook as I do." + +"Indeed. Then Lord Garvington was aware that you shot Pine?" + +"I was not! I was not!" screamed the head of the Lambert family, jumping +up and clenching his hands. "I swear I never knew the truth until you +brought the bullet to the library to fit the revolver." + +"The--the--bullet!" stammered Silver, whose smooth red hair was almost +standing on end from sheer fright. + +"Yes," said Lambert, addressing him sharply. "Kara, under the direction +of Chaldea, found the bullet in the trunk of the elm tree which was in +the line of fire. She came with me to The Manor this morning, and we +found that it fitted the barrel of Lord Garvington's revolver. At the +inquest, and on unimpeachable evidence, it was proved that he fired only +the first shot, which disabled Pine without killing him. The second +shot, which pierced the man's heart, could only have come from the +second revolver, which was, and is, in your possession, Mr. Silver. The +bullet found in the tree trunk will fit no other barrel of no other +weapon. I'm prepared to swear to this." + +Silver covered his face with his hands and looked so deadly white that +Lambert believed he would faint. However, he pulled himself together, +and addressed Garvington anxiously. "You know, my lord, that you locked +up the house on that night, and that I was indoors." + +"Yes," admitted the other hesitating. "So far as I knew you certainly +were inside. It is true, Noel," he added, catching his cousin's eye. +"Even to save myself I must admit that." + +"Oh, you'd admit anything to save yourself," retorted his cousin +contemptuously, and noting the mistake in the wording of the sentence. +"But admitting that Silver was within doors doesn't save you, so far as +I can see." + +"There is no need for Lord Garvington to excuse himself," spoke up +Silver, attempting to enlist the little man on his side by defending +him. "It was proved at the inquest, as you have admitted, Mr. Lambert, +that he only fired the first shot." + +"And you fired the second." + +"I never did. I was inside and in bed. I only came down with the rest of +the guests when I heard the firing. Is that not so, my lord?" + +"Yes," admitted Garvington grudgingly. "So far as I know you had nothing +to do with the second shot." + +Silver turned a relieved face toward Lambert. "I shall confess this +much, sir," he said, trying to speak calmly and judicially. "Pine +treated me badly by taking my toy inventions and by giving me very +little money. When I was staying at The Manor I learned that Lord +Garvington had also been treated badly by Pine. He said if we could get +money that we should go shares. I knew that Pine was jealous of his +wife, and that you were at the cottage here, so I suggested that, as +Lord Garvington could imitate handwriting, he should forge a letter +purporting to come from Lady Agnes to you, saying that she intended to +elope on a certain night. Also I told Lord Garvington to talk a great +deal about shooting burglars, so as to give color to his shooting Pine." + +"It was arranged to shoot him, then?" + +"No, it wasn't," cried Garvington, glaring at Silver. "All we wanted to +do was to break Pine's arm or leg so that he might be laid up in The +Manor." + +"Yes, that is so," said Silver feverishly, and nodding. "I fancied--and +for this reason I suggested the plot--that when Pine was ill, both Lord +Garvington and myself could deal with him in an easier manner. +Also--since the business would be left in my hands--I hoped to take out +some money from various investments, and share it with Lord Garvington. +We never meant that Pine should be killed, but only reduced to weakness +so that we might force him to give us both money." + +"A very ingenious plot," said Lambert grimly and wondering how much of +the story was true. "And then?" + +"Then Lord Garvington wrote the letter, and when seeing Pine, I gave it +to him saying that while keeping watch on his wife--as he asked me to," +said Silver with an emphasis which made Lambert wince, "I had +intercepted the letter. Pine was furious, as I knew he would be, and +said that he would come to the blue door at the appointed time to +prevent the supposed elopement. I told Lord Garvington, who was ready, +and--" + +"And I went down, pretending that Pine was a burglar," said Lord +Garvington, continuing the story in a most shameless manner. "I opened +the door quite expecting to find him there. He rushed me, believing in +his blind haste that I was Agnes coming to elope with you. I shot him in +the arm, and he staggered away, while I shut the door again. Whether, on +finding his mistake, and knowing that he had met me instead of Agnes, he +intended to go away, I can't say, as I was on the wrong side of the +door. But Agnes, attracted to the window by the shot, declared--and you +heard her declare it at the inquest, Noel--that Pine walked rapidly away +and was shot just as he came abreast of the shrubbery. That's all." + +"And quite enough, too," said Lambert savagely. "You tricky pair of +beasts; I suppose you hoped to implicate me in the crime?" + +"It wasn't a crime," protested Silver; "but only a way to get money. By +going up to London you certainly delayed what we intended to do, since +we could not carry out our plan until you returned. You did for one +night, as Chaldea, who was on the watch for you, told us, and then we +acted." + +"Did Chaldea know of the trap?" + +"No! She knew nothing save that I"--it was Silver who spoke--"wanted to +know about your return. She found the letter in Pine's tent, and really +believed that Lady Agnes had written it, and that you had shot Pine. It +was to force you by threats to marry her that she gave the letter to +me." + +"And she instructed you to show it to the police," said Lambert between +his teeth, "whereas you tried to blackmail Lady Agnes." + +"I had to make my money somehow," said Silver insolently. "Pine was dead +and Lady Agnes had the coin." + +"You were to share in the twenty-five thousand pounds, I suppose?" +Lambert asked his cousin indignantly. + +"No; Silver blackmailed on his own. I hoped to get money from Agnes in +another way--as her hard-up brother that is. And if--" + +"Oh, shut up! You make me sick," interrupted Lambert, suppressing a +strong desire to choke his cousin. "You are as bad as Silver." + +"And Silver is as innocent as Lord Garvington," struck in that +gentleman, whose face was recovering its natural color. + +Lambert turned on him sharply. "I don't agree with that. You shot Pine!" + +Silver sprang up with a hysterical cry. He had judged like Agag that the +bitterness of death was past, but found that he was not yet safe. "I did +not shoot Pine," he declared, wringing his hands. "Oh, why can't you +believe me." + +"Because Garvington gave you the second revolver and with that--on the +evidence of the bullet--Pine was murdered." + +"That might be so, but--but--" Silver hesitated, and shivered and looked +round with a hunted expression in his eyes. + +"But what? You may as well explain to me." + +"I shan't--I refuse to. I am innocent! You can't hurt me!" + +Lambert brushed aside this puny rage. "Inspector Darby can. I shall go +to Wanbury this evening and tell him all." + +"No; don't do that!" cried Garvington, greatly agitated. "Think of +me--think of the family!" + +"I think of Justice! You two beasts aren't fit to be at large. I'm off," +and he made for the door. + +In a moment Silver was clutching his coat. "No, don't!" he screamed. "I +am innocent! Lord Garvington, say that I am innocent!" + +"Oh, ---- you, get out of the hole as best you can! I'm in as big a mess +as you are, unless Lambert acts decently." + +"Decently, you wicked little devil," said Lambert scornfully. "I only +propose to do what any decent man would do. You trapped Pine by means +of the letter, and Silver shot him." + +"I didn't! I didn't!" + +"You had the revolver!" + +"I hadn't. I gave it away! I lent it!" panted Silver, crying with +terror. + +"You lent it--you gave it--you liar! Who to?" + +Silver looked round again for some way of escape, but could see none. +"To Miss Greeby. She--she--she--she shot Pine. I swear she did." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MOTHER COCKLESHELL. + + +It was late in the afternoon when Lambert got back to the village inn, +and he felt both tired and bewildered. The examination of Silver had +been so long, and what he revealed so amazing, that the young man wished +to be alone, both to rest and to think over the situation. It was a very +perplexing one, as he plainly saw, since, in the light of the new +revelations, it seemed almost impossible to preserve the name of the +family from disgrace. Seated in his sitting room, with his legs +stretched out and his hands in his pockets, Lambert moodily glared at +the carpet, recalling all that had been confessed by the foxy secretary +of Miss Greeby. That he should accuse her of committing the crime seemed +unreasonable. + +According to Silver, the woman had overheard by chance the scheme to +lure Pine to The Manor. Knowing that the millionaire was coming to +Abbot's Wood, the secretary had propounded the plan to Garvington long +before the man's arrival. Hence the constant talk of the host about +burglars and his somewhat unnecessary threat to shoot any one who tried +to break into the house. The persistence of this remark had roused Miss +Greeby's curiosity, and noting that Silver and his host were frequently +in one another's company, she had seized her opportunity to listen. For +some time, so cautious were the plotters, she had heard nothing +particular, but after her recognition of Hearne as Pine when she visited +the gypsy camp she became aware that these secret talks were connected +with his presence. Then a chance remark of Garvington's--he was always +loose-tongued--gave her the clue, and by threats of exposure she managed +to make Silver confess the whole plot. Far from thwarting it she agreed +to let them carry it out, and promised secrecy, only extracting a +promise that she should be advised of the time and place for the +trapping of the millionaire. And it was this acquiescence of Miss +Greeby's which puzzled Lambert. + +On the face of it, since she was in love with him, it was better for her +own private plans that Pine should remain alive, because the marriage +placed Agnes beyond his reach. Why, then, should Miss Greeby have +removed the barrier--and at the cost of being hanged for murder? Lambert +had asked Silver this question, but had obtained no definite answer, +since the secretary protested that she had not explained her reasons. +Jokingly referring to possible burglars, she had borrowed the revolver +from Silver which he had obtained from Garvington, and it was this +action which first led the little secretary to suspect her. Afterward, +knowing that she had met Pine in Abbot's Wood, he kept a close watch on +her every action to see if she intended to take a hand in the game. But +Silver protested that he could see no reason for her doing so, and even +up to the moment when he confessed to Lambert could not conjecture why +she had acted in such a manner. + +However, it appeared that she was duly informed of the hour when Pine +would probably arrive to prevent the pretended elopement, and also +learned that he would be hanging about the blue door. When Silver +retired for the night he watched the door of her bedroom--which was in +the same wing of the mansion of his own. Also he occasionally looked out +to see if Pine had arrived, as the window of his room afforded a fair +view of the blue door and the shrubbery. For over an hour--as he told +Lambert--he divided his attention between the passage and the window. It +was while looking out of the last, and after midnight, that he saw Miss +Greeby climb out of her room and descend to the ground by means of the +ivy which formed a natural ladder. Her window was no great height from +the ground, and she was an athletic woman much given to exercise. +Wondering what she intended to do, yet afraid--because of Pine's +expected arrival--to leave the house, Silver watched her cautiously. She +was arrayed in a long black cloak with a hood, he said, but in the +brilliant moonlight he could easily distinguish her gigantic form as she +slipped into the shrubbery. When Pine arrived, Silver saw him dash at +the blue door when it was opened by Garvington, and saw him fall back +after the first shot. Then he heard the shutting of the door; +immediately afterward the opening of Lady Agnes's window, and noted that +Pine ran quickly and unsteadily down the path. As he passed the +shrubbery, the second shot came--at this point Silver simply gave the +same description as Lady Agnes did at the inquest--and then Pine fell. +Afterward Garvington and his guests came out and gathered round the +body, but Miss Greeby, slipping along the rear of the shrubbery, doubled +back to the shadow at the corner of the house. Silver, having to play +his part, did not wait to see her re-enter the mansion, but presumed she +did so by clambering up the ivy. He ran down and mingled with the guests +and servants, who were clustered round the dead man, and finally found +Miss Greeby at his elbow, artlessly inquiring what had happened. For the +time being he accepted her innocent attitude. + +Later on, when dismissed by Jarwin and in want of funds, he sought out +Miss Greeby and accused her. At first she denied the story, but finally, +as she judged that he could bring home the crime to her, she compromised +with him by giving him the post of her secretary at a good salary. When +he obtained the forged letter from Chaldea--and she learned this from +Lambert when he was ill--Miss Greeby made him give it to her, alleging +that by showing it to Agnes she could the more positively part the widow +from her lover. Miss Greeby, knowing who had written the letter, counted +upon Agnes guessing the truth, and had she not seen that it had entered +her mind, when the letter was brought to her, she would have given a +hint as to the forger's name. But Agnes's hesitation and sudden paleness +assured Miss Greeby that she guessed the truth, so the letter was left +to work its poison. Silver, of course, clamored for his blackmail, but +Miss Greeby promised to recompense him, and also threatened if he did +not hold his tongue that she would accuse him and Garvington of the +murder. Since the latter had forged the letter and the former had +borrowed the revolver which had killed Pine, it would have been +tolerably easy for Miss Greeby to substantiate her accusation. As to her +share in the crime, all she had to do was to deny that Silver had passed +the borrowed revolver on to her, and there was no way in which he could +prove that he had done so. On the whole, Silver had judged it best to +fall in with Miss Greeby's plans, and preserve silence, especially as +she was rich and could supply him with whatever money he chose to ask +for. She was in his power, and he was in her power, so it was necessary +to act on the golden rule of give and take. + +And the final statement which Silver made to Lambert intimated that +Garvington was ignorant of the truth. Until the bullet was produced in +the library to fit the revolver it had never struck Garvington that the +other weapon had been used to kill Pine. And he had honestly believed +that Silver--as was actually the case--had remained in his bedroom all +the time, until he came downstairs to play his part. As to Miss Greeby +being concerned in the matter, such an idea had never entered +Garvington's head. The little man's hesitation in producing the +revolver, when he got an inkling of the truth, was due to his dread that +if Silver was accused of the murder--and at the time it seemed as though +the secretary was guilty--he might turn king's evidence to save his +neck, and explain the very shady plot in which Garvington had been +engaged. But Lambert had forced his cousin's hand, and Silver had been +brought to book, with the result that the young man now sat in his room +at the inn, quite convinced that Miss Greeby was guilty, yet wondering +what motive had led her to act in such a murderous way. + +Also, Lambert wondered what was best to be done, in order to save the +family name. If he went to the police and had Miss Greeby arrested, the +truth of Garvington's shady dealings would certainly come to light, +especially as Silver was an accessory after the fact. On the other hand, +if he left things as they were, there was always a chance that hints +might be thrown out by Chaldea--who had everything to gain and nothing +to lose--that he and Agnes were responsible for the death of Pine. Of +course, Lambert, not knowing that Chaldea had been listening to the +conversation in the cottage, believed that the girl was ignorant of the +true state of affairs, and he wondered how he could inform her that the +actual criminal was known without risking her malignity. He wanted to +clear his character and that of his wife; likewise he wished to save the +family name. But it seemed to him that the issue of these things lay in +the hands of Chaldea, and she was bent upon injuring him if she could. +It was all very perplexing. + +It was at this point of his meditation that Mother Cockleshell arrived +at the inn. He heard her jovial voice outside and judged from its tone +that the old dame was in excellent spirits. Her visit seemed to be a +hint from heaven as to what he should do. Gentilla hated Chaldea and +loved Agnes, so Lambert felt that she would be able to help him. As soon +as possible he had her brought into the sitting room, and, having made +her sit down, closed both the door and the window, preparatory to +telling her all that he had learned. The conversation was, indeed, an +important one, and he was anxious that it should take place without +witnesses. + +"You _are_ kind, sir," said Mother Cockleshell, who had been supplied +with a glass of gin and water. "But it ain't for the likes of me to be +sitting down with the likes of you." + +"Nonsense! We must have a long talk, and I can't expect you to stand all +the time--at your age." + +"Some Gentiles ain't so anxious to save the legs of old ones," remarked +Gentilla Stanley cheerfully. "But I always did say as you were a golden +one for kindness of heart. Well, them as does what's unexpected gets +what they don't hope for." + +"I have got my heart's desire, Mother," said Lambert, sitting down and +lighting his pipe. "I am happy now." + +"Not as happy as you'd like to be, sir," said the old woman, speaking +quite in the Gentile manner, and looking like a decent charwoman. +"You've a dear wife, as I don't deny, Mr. Lambert, but money is what +you want." + +"I have enough for my needs." + +"Not for her needs, sir. She should be wrapped in cloth of gold and have +a path of flowers to tread upon." + +"It's a path of thorns just now," muttered Lambert moodily. + +"Not for long, sir; not for long. I come to put the crooked straight and +to raise a lamp to banish the dark. Very good this white satin is," said +Mother Cockleshell irrelevantly, and alluding to the gin. "And terbaccer +goes well with it, as there's no denying. You wouldn't mind my taking a +whiff, sir, would you?" and she produced a blackened clay pipe which had +seen much service. "Smoking is good for the nerves, Mr. Lambert." + +The young man handed her his pouch. "Fill up," he said, smiling at the +idea of his smoking in company with an old gypsy hag. + +"Bless you, my precious!" said Mother Cockleshell, accepting the offer +with avidity, and talking more in the Romany manner. "I allers did say +as you were what I said before you were, and that's golden, my Gorgious +one. Ahime!" she blew a wreath of blue smoke from her withered lips, +"that's food to me, my dearie, and heat to my old bones." + +Lambert nodded. "You hinted, in Devonshire, that you had something to +say, and a few moments ago you talked about putting the crooked +straight." + +"And don't the crooked need that same?" chuckled Gentilla, nodding. +"There's trouble at hand, my gentleman. The child's brewing witch's +broth, for sure." + +"Chaldea!" Lambert sat up anxiously. He mistrusted the younger gypsy +greatly, and was eager to know what she was now doing. + +"Aye! Aye! Aye!" Mother Cockleshell nodded three times like a veritable +Macbeth witch. "She came tearing, rampagious-like, to the camp an hour +or so back and put on her fine clothes--may they cleave with pain to her +skin--to go to the big city. It is true, rye. Kara ran by the side of +the donkey she rode upon--may she have an accident--to Wanbury." + +"To Wanbury?" Lambert looked startled as it crossed his mind, and not +unnaturally, that Chaldea might have gone to inform Inspector Darby +about the conversation with Garvington in the library. + +"To Wanbury first, sir, and then to Lundra." + +"How can you be certain of that?" + +"The child treated me like the devil's calls her," said Gentilla +Stanley, shaking her head angrily. "And I have no trust in her, for a +witchly wrong 'un she is. When she goes donkey-wise to Wanbury, I says +to a chal, says I, quick-like, 'Follow and watch her games!' So the chal +runs secret, behind hedges, and comes on the child at the railway line +making for Lundra. And off she goes on wheels in place of tramping the +droms in true Romany style." + +"What the deuce has she gone to London for?" Lambert asked himself in a +low voice, but Gentilla's sharp ears overheard. + +"Mischief for sure, my gentleman. Hai, but she's a bad one, that same. +But she plays and I play, with the winning for me--since the good cards +are always in the old hand. Fear nothing, my rye. She cannot hurt, +though snake that she is, her bite stings." + +The young man did not reply. He was uneasy in one way and relieved in +another. Chaldea certainly had not gone to see Inspector Darby, so she +could not have any intention of bringing the police into the matter. But +why had she gone to London? He asked himself this question and finally +put it to the old woman, who watched him with bright, twinkling eyes. + +"She's gone for mischief," answered Gentilla, nodding positively. "For +mischief's as natural to her as cheating is to a Romany chal. But I'm a +dealer of cards myself, rye, and I deal myself the best hand." + +"I wish you'd leave metaphor and come to plain speaking," cried Lambert +in an irritable tone, for the conversation was getting on his nerves by +reason of its prolixity and indirectness. + +Mother Cockleshell laughed and nodded, then emptied the ashes out of her +pipe and spoke out, irrelevantly as it would seem: "The child has taken +the hearts of the young from me," said she, shaking her grizzled head; +"but the old cling to the old. With them as trusts my wisdom, my rye, I +goes across the black water to America and leaves the silly ones to the +child. She'll get them into choky and trouble, for sure. And that's a +true dukkerin." + +"Have you the money to go to America?" + +"Money?" The old woman chuckled and hugged herself. "And why not, sir, +when Ishmael Hearne was my child. Aye, the child of my child, for I am +the bebee of Hearne, bebee being grandmother in our Romany tongue, sir." + +Lambert started from his seat, almost too astonished to speak. "Do you +mean to say that you are Pine's grandmother?" + +"Pine? Who is Pine? A Gentile I know not. Hearne he was born and Hearne +he shall be to me, though the grass is now a quilt for him. Ohone! Hai +mai! Ah, me! Woe! and woe, my gentleman. He was the child of my child +and the love of my heart," she rocked herself to and fro sorrowfully, +"like a leaf has he fallen from the tree; like the dew has he vanished +into the blackness of the great shadow. Hai mai! Hai mai! the sadness of +it." + +"Hearne your grandson?" murmured Lambert, staring at her and scarcely +able to believe her. + +"True. Yes; it is true," said Gentilla, still rocking. "He left the +road, and the tent, and the merry fire under a hedge for your Gentile +life. But a born Romany he was and no Gorgio. Ahr-r-r!" she shook +herself with disgust. "Why did he labor for gold in the Gentile manner, +when he could have chored and cheated like a true-hearted black one?" + +Her allusions to money suddenly enlightened the young man. "Yours is the +name mentioned in the sealed letter held by Jarwin?" he cried, with +genuine amazement written largely on his face. "You inherit the +millions?" + +Mother Cockleshell wiped her eyes with a corner of her shawl and +chuckled complacently. "It is so, young man, therefore can I take those +who hold to my wisdom to the great land beyond the water. Ah, I am rich +now, sir, and as a Gorgious one could I live beneath a roof-tree. But +for why, I asks you, my golden rye, when I was bred to the open and the +sky? In a tent I was born; in a tent I shall die. Should I go, Gentile, +it's longing for the free life I'd be, since Romany I am and ever shall +be. As we says in our tongue, my dear, 'It's allers the boro matcho that +pet-a-lay 'dree the panni,' though true gypsy lingo you can't call it +for sure." + +"What does it mean?" demanded Lambert, staring at the dingy possessor of +two millions sterling. + +"It's allers the largest fish that falls back into the water," +translated Mrs. Stanley. "I told that to Leland, the boro rye, and he +goes and puts the same into a book for your readings, my dearie!" then +she uttered a howl and flung up her arms. "But what matter I am rich, +when my child's child's blood calls out for vengeance. I'd give all the +red gold--and red money it is, my loved one," she added, fixing a bright +pair of eyes on Lambert, "if I could find him as shot the darling of my +heart." + +Knowing that he could trust her, and pitying her obvious sorrow, Lambert +had no hesitation in revealing the truth so far as he knew it. "It +wasn't a him who shot your grandson, but a her." + +"Hai!" Gentilla flung up her arms again, "then I was right. My old eyes +did see like a cat in the dark, though brightly shone the moon when he +fell." + +"What? You know?" Lambert started back again at this second surprise. + +"If it's a Gentile lady, I know. A red one large as a cow in the +meadows, and fierce as an unbroken colt." + +"Miss Greeby!" + +"Greeby! Greeby! So your romi told me," shrieked the old woman, throwing +up her hands in ecstasy. "Says I to her, 'Who's the foxy one?' and says +she, smiling like, 'Greeby's her name!'" + +"Why did you ask my wife that?" demanded Lambert, much astonished. + +"Hai, she was no wife of yours then, sir. Why did I ask her? Because I +saw the shooting--" + +"Of Pine--of Hearne--of your son?" + +"Of who else? of who else?" cried Mother Cockleshell, clapping her +skinny hand and paddling on the floor with her feet. "Says Ishmael to +me, 'Bebee,' says he, 'my romi is false and would run away with the +golden rye this very night as ever was.' And says I to him, 'It's not +so, son of my son, for your romi is as true as the stars and purer than +gold.' But says he, 'There's a letter,' he says, and shows it to me. +'Lies, son of my son,' says I, and calls on him to play the trustful +rom. But he pitches down the letter, and says he, 'I go this night to +stop them from paddling the hoof,' and says I to him, 'No! No!' says I. +'She's a true one.' But he goes, when all in the camp are sleeping +death-like, and I watches, and I follers, and I hides." + +"Where did you hide?" + +"Never mind, dearie. I hides securely, and sees him walking up and down +biting the lips of him and swinging his arms. Then I sees--for Oliver +was bright, and Oliver's the moon, lovey--the big Gentile woman come +round and hide in the bushes. Says I to myself, says I, 'And what's your +game?' I says, not knowing the same till she shoots and my child's child +falls dead as a hedgehog. Then she runs and I run, and all is over." + +"Why didn't you denounce her, Gentilla?" + +"And for why, my precious heart? Who would believe the old gypsy? Rather +would the Poknees say as I'd killed my dear one. No! no! Artful am I and +patient in abiding my time. But the hour strikes, as I said when I spoke +to your romi in Devonshire no less, and the foxy moll shall hang. You +see, my dear, I waited for some Gentile to speak what I could speak, to +say as what I saw was truth for sure. You speak, and now I can tell my +tale to the big policeman at Wanbury so that my son's son may sleep +quiet, knowing that the evil has come home to her as laid him low. But, +lovey, oh, lovey, and my precious one!" cried the old woman darting +forward to caress Lambert's hand in a fondling way, "tell me how you +know and what you learned. At the cottage you were, and maybe out in the +open watching the winder of her you loved." + +"No," said Lambert sharply, "I was at the cottage certainly, but in bed +and asleep. I did not hear of the crime until I was in London. In this +way I found out the truth, Mother!" and he related rapidly all that had +been discovered, bringing the narrative right up to the confession of +Silver, which he detailed at length. + +The old woman kept her sharp eyes on his expressive face and hugged his +hand every now and then, as various points in the narrative struck her. +At the end she dropped his hand and returned back to her chair +chuckling. "It's a sad dukkerin for the foxy lady," said Gentilla, +grinning like the witch she was. "Hanged she will be, and rightful +it is to be so!" + +"I agree with you," replied Lambert relentlessly. "Your evidence and +that of Silver can hang her, certainly. Yet, if she is arrested, and the +whole tale comes out in the newspapers, think of the disgrace to my +family." + +Mother Cockleshell nodded. "That's as true as true, my golden rye," she +said pondering. "And I wish not to hurt you and the rani, who was kind +to me. I go away," she rose to her feet briskly, "and I think. What will +you do?" + +"I can't say," said Lambert, doubtfully and irresolutely. "I must +consult my wife. Miss Greeby should certainly suffer for her crime, and +yet--" + +"Aye! Aye! Aye! The boro rye," she meant Garvington, "is a bad one for +sure, as we know. Shame to him is shame to you, and I wouldn't have the +rani miserable--the good kind one that she is. Wait! aye, wait, my +precious gentleman, and we shall see." + +"You will say nothing in the meantime," said Lambert, stopping her at +the door, and anxious to know exactly what were her intentions. + +"I have waited long for vengeance and I can wait longer, sir," said +Mother Cockleshell, becoming less the gypsy and more the respectable +almshouse widow. "Depend upon my keeping quiet until--" + +"Until what? Until when?" + +"Never you mind," said the woman mysteriously. "Them as sins must suffer +for the sin. But not you and her as is innocent." + +"No violence, Gentilla," said the young man, alarmed less the lawless +gypsy nature should punish Miss Greeby privately. + +"I swear there shall be no violence, rye. Wait, for the child is making +mischief, and until we knows of her doings we must be silent. Give me +your gripper, my dearie," she seized his wrist and bent back the palm of +the hand to trace the lines with a dirty finger. "Good fortune comes to +you and to her, my golden rye," she droned in true gypsy fashion. +"Money, and peace, and honor, and many children, to carry on a stainless +name. Your son shall you see, and your son's son, my noble gentleman, +and with your romi shall you go with happiness to the grave," she +dropped the hand. "So be it for a true dukkerin, and remember Gentilla +Stanley when the luck comes true." + +"But Mother, Mother," said Lambert, following her to the door, as he was +still doubtful as to her intentions concerning Miss Greeby. + +The gypsy waved him aside solemnly. "Never again will you see me, my +golden rye, if the stars speak truly, and if there be virtue in the +lines of the hand. I came into your life: I go out of your life: and +what is written shall be!" she made a mystic sign close to his face and +then nodded cheerily. + +"Duveleste rye!" was her final greeting, and she disappeared swiftly, +but the young man did not know that the Romany farewell meant, "God +bless you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE DESTINED END. + + +As might have been anticipated, Lord Garvington was in anything but a +happy frame of mind. He left Silver in almost a fainting condition, and +returned to The Manor feeling very sick himself. The two cowardly little +men had not the necessary pluck of conspirators, and now that there +seemed to be a very good chance that their nefarious doings would be +made public they were both in deadly fear of the consequences. Silver +was in the worst plight, since he was well aware that the law would +consider him to be an accessory after the fact, and that, although his +neck was not in danger, his liberty assuredly was. He was so stunned by +the storm which had broken so unexpectedly over his head, that he had +not even the sense to run away. All manly grit--what he possessed of +it--had been knocked out of him, and he could only whimper over the fire +while waiting for Lambert to act. + +Garvington was not quite so downhearted, as he knew that his cousin was +anxious to consider the fair fame of the family. Thinking thus, he felt +a trifle reassured, for the forged letter could not be made public +without a slur being cast on the name. Then, again, Garvington knew that +he was innocent of designing Pine's death, and that, even if Lambert did +inform the police, he could not be arrested. It is only just to say that +had the little man known of Miss Greeby's intention to murder the +millionaire, he would never have written the letter which lured the man +to his doom. And for two reasons: in the first place he was too cowardly +to risk his neck; and in the second Pine was of more value to him alive +than dead. Comforting himself with this reflection, he managed to +maintain a fairly calm demeanor before his wife. + +But on this night Lady Garvington was particularly exasperating, for she +constantly asked questions which the husband did not feel inclined to +answer. Having heard that Lambert was in the village, she wished to know +why he had not been asked to stay at The Manor, and defended the young +man when Garvington pointed out that an iniquitous person who had robbed +Agnes of two millions could not be tolerated by the man--Garvington +meant himself--he had wronged. Then Jane inquired why Lambert had +brought Chaldea to the house, and what had passed in the library, but +received no answer, save a growl. Finally she insisted that Freddy had +lost his appetite, which was perfectly true. + +"And I thought you liked that way of dressing a fish so much, dear," was +her wail. "I never seem to quite hit your taste." + +"Oh, bother: leave me alone, Jane. I'm worried." + +"I know you are, for you have eaten so little. What is the matter?" + +"Everything's the matter, confound your inquisitiveness. Hasn't Agnes +lost all her money because of this selfish marriage with Noel, hang him? +How the dickens do you expect us to carry on unless we borrow?" + +"Can't you get some money from the person who now inherits?" + +"Jarwin won't tell me the name." + +"But I know who it is," said Lady Garvington triumphantly. "One of the +servants who went to the gypsy camp this afternoon told my maid, and my +maid told me. The gypsies are greatly excited, and no wonder." + +Freddy stared at her. "Excited, what about?" + +"Why, about the money, dear. Don't you know?" + +"No, I don't!" shouted Freddy, breaking a glass in his irritation. "What +is it? Bother you, Jane. Don't keep me hanging on in suspense." + +"I'm sure I never do, Freddy, dear. It's Hubert's money which has gone +to his mother." + +Garvington jumped up. "Who--who--who is his mother?" he demanded, +furiously. + +"That dear old Gentilla Stanley." + +"What! What! What!" + +"Oh, Freddy," said his wife plaintively. "You make my head ache. Yes, +it's quite true. Celestine had it from William the footman. Fancy, +Gentilla having all that money. How lucky she is." + +"Oh, damn her; damn her," growled Garvington, breaking another glass. + +"Why, dear. I'm sure she's going to make good use of the money. She +says--so William told Celestine--that she would give a million to learn +for certain who murdered poor Hubert." + +"Would she? would she? would she?" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly +dropped out of his head, and he babbled, and burbled, and choked, and +spluttered, until his wife was quite alarmed. + +"Freddy, you always eat too fast. Go and lie down, dear." + +"Yes," said Garvington, rapidly making up his mind to adopt a certain +course about which he wished his wife to know nothing. "I'll lie down, +Jane." + +"And don't take any more wine," warned Jane, as she drifted out of the +dining-room. "You are quite red as it is, dear." + +But Freddy did not take this advice, but drank glass after glass until +he became pot-valiant. He needed courage, as he intended to go all by +himself to the lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage and interview Silver. It +occurred to Freddy that if he could induce the secretary to give up Miss +Greeby to justice, Mother Cockleshell, out of gratitude, might surrender +to him the sum of one million pounds. Of course, the old hag might have +been talking all round the shop, and her offer might be bluff, but it +was worth taking into consideration. Garvington, thinking that there was +no time to lose, since his cousin might be beforehand in denouncing the +guilty woman, hurried on his fur overcoat, and after leaving a lying +statement with the butler that he had gone to bed, he went out by the +useful blue door. In a few minutes he was trotting along the well-known +path making up his mind what to say to Silver. The interview did not +promise to be an easy one. + +"I wish I could do without him," thought the treacherous little +scoundrel as he left his own property and struck across the waste ground +beyond the park wall. "But I can't, dash it all, since he's the only +person who saw the crime actually committed. 'Course he'll get jailed as +an accessory-after-the-fact: but when he comes out I'll give him a +thousand or so if the old woman parts. At all events, I'll see what +Silver is prepared to do, and then I'll call on old Cockleshell and make +things right with her. Hang it," Freddy had a qualmish feeling. "The +exposure won't be pleasant for me over that unlucky letter, but if I can +snaffle a million, it's worth it. Curse the honor of the family, I've +got to look after myself somehow. Ho! ho!" he chuckled as he remembered +his cousin. "What a sell for Noel when he finds that I've taken the wind +out of his sails. Serve him jolly well right." + +In this way Garvington kept up his spirits during the walk, and felt +entirely cheerful and virtuous by the time he reached the cottage. In +the thin, cold moonlight, the wintry wood looked spectral and wan. The +sight of the frowning monoliths, the gaunt, frozen trees and the +snow-powdered earth, made the luxurious little man shiver. Also the +anticipated conversation rather daunted him, although he decided that +after all Silver was but a feeble creature who could be easily managed. +What Freddy forgot was that he lacked pluck himself, and that Silver, +driven into a corner, might fight with the courage of despair. The sight +of the secretary's deadly white and terrified face as he opened the door +sufficient to peer out showed that he was at bay. + +"If you come in I'll shoot," he quavered, brokenly. "I'll--I'll brain +you with the poker. I'll throw hot water on you, and--and scratch out +your--your--" + +"Come, come," said Garvington, boldly. "It's only me--a friend!" + +Silver recognized the voice and the dumpy figure of his visitor. At once +he dragged him into the passage and barred the door quickly, breathing +hard meanwhile. "I don't mind you," he giggled, hysterically. "You're in +the same boat with me, my lord. But I fancied when you knocked that the +police--the police"--his voice died weakly in his throat: he cast a wild +glance around and touched his neck uneasily as though he already felt +the hangman's rope encircling it. + +Garvington did not approve of this grim pantomime, and swore. "I'm quite +alone, damn you," he said roughly. "It's all right, so far!" He sat down +and loosened his overcoat, for the place was like a Turkish bath for +heat. "I want a drink. You've been priming yourself, I see," and he +pointed to a decanter of port wine and a bottle of brandy which were on +the table along with a tray of glasses. "Silly ass you are to mix." + +"I'm--I'm--keeping up my--my spirits," giggled Silver, wholly unnerved, +and pouring out the brandy with a shaking hand. "There you are, my lord. +There's water, but no soda." + +"Keeping up your spirits by pouring spirits down," said Garvington, +venturing on a weak joke. "You're in a state of siege, too." + +Silver certainly was. He had bolted the shutters, and had piled +furniture against the two windows of the room. On the table beside the +decanter and bottles of brandy, lay a poker, a heavy club which Lambert +had brought from Africa, and had left behind when he gave up the +cottage, a revolver loaded in all six chambers, and a large bread knife. +Apparently the man was in a dangerous state of despair and was ready to +give the officers of the law a hostile welcome when they came to arrest +him. He touched the various weapons feverishly. + +"I'll give them beans," he said, looking fearfully from right to left. +"Every door is locked; every window is bolted. I've heaped up chairs and +sofas and tables and chests of drawers, and wardrobes and mattresses +against every opening to keep the devils out. And the lamps--look at the +lamps. Ugh!" he shuddered. "I can't bear to be in the dark." + +"Plenty of light," observed Garvington, and spoke truly, for there must +have been at least six lamps in the room--two on the table, two on the +mantel-piece, and a couple on the sideboard. And amidst his primitive +defences sat Silver quailing and quivering at every sound, occasionally +pouring brandy down his throat to keep up his courage. + +The white looks of the man, the disorder of the room, the glare of the +many lights, and the real danger of the situation, communicated their +thrill to Garvington. He shivered and looked into shadowy corners, as +Silver did; then strove to reassure both himself and his companion. +"Don't worry so," he said, sipping his brandy to keep him up to concert +pitch, "I've got an idea which will be good for both of us." + +"What is it?" questioned the secretary cautiously. He naturally did not +trust the man who had betrayed him. + +"Do you know who has inherited Pine's money?" + +"No. The person named in the sealed envelope?" + +"Exactly, and the person is Mother Cockleshell." + +Silver was so amazed that he forgot his fright. "What? Is Gentilla +Stanley related to Pine?" + +"She's his grandmother, it seems. One of my servants was at the camp +to-day and found the gypsies greatly excited over the old cat's +windfall." + +"Whew!" Silver whistled and drew a deep breath. "If I'd known that, I'd +have got round the old woman. But it's too late now since all the fat is +on the fire. Mr. Lambert knows too much, and you have confessed what +should have been kept quiet." + +"I had to save my own skin," said Garvington sullenly. "After all, I had +nothing to do with the murder. I never guessed that you were so mixed up +in it until Lambert brought that bullet to fit the revolver I lent you." + +"And which I gave to Miss Greeby," snapped Silver tartly. "She is the +criminal, not me. What a wax she will be in when she learns the truth. +I expect your cousin will have her arrested." + +"I don't think so. He has some silly idea in his head about the honor of +our name, and won't press matters unless he is forced to." + +"Who can force him?" asked Silver, looking more at ease, since he saw a +gleam of hope. + +"Chaldea! She's death on making trouble." + +"Can't we silence her? Remember you swing on my hook." + +"No, I don't," contradicted Garvington sharply. "I can't be arrested." + +"For forging that letter you can!" + +"Not at all. I did not write it to lure Pine to his death, but only +wished to maim him." + +"That will get you into trouble," insisted Silver, anxious to have a +companion in misery. + +"It won't, I tell you. There's no one to prosecute. You are the person +who is in danger, as you knew Miss Greeby to be guilty, and are +therefore an accessory after the fact." + +"If Mr. Lambert has the honor of your family at heart he will do +nothing," said the secretary hopefully; "for if Miss Greeby is arrested +along with me the writing of that letter is bound to come out." + +"I don't care. It's worth a million." + +"What is worth a million?" + +"The exposure. See here, Silver, I hear that Mother Cockleshell is +willing to hand over that sum to the person who finds the murderer of +her grandson. We know that Miss Greeby is guilty, so why not give her +up and earn the money?" + +The secretary rose in quivering alarm. "But I'd be arrested also. You +said so; you know you said so." + +"And I say so again," remarked Garvington, leaning back coolly. "You'd +not be hanged, you know, although she would. A few years in prison +would be your little lot and when you came out I could give you +say--er--er--ten thousand pounds. There! That's a splendid offer." + +"Where would you get the ten thousand? Tell me!" asked Silver with a +curious look. + +"From the million Mother Cockleshell would hand over to me." + +"For denouncing me?" + +"For denouncing Miss Greeby." + +"You beast!" shrieked Silver hysterically. "You know quite well that if +she is taken by the police I have no chance of escaping. I'd run away +now if I had the cash. But I haven't. I count on your cousin keeping +quiet because of your family name, and you shan't give the show away." + +"But think," said Garvington, persuasively, "a whole million." + +"For you, and only ten thousand for me. Oh, I like that." + +"Well, I'll make it twenty thousand." + +"No! no." + +"Thirty thousand." + +"No! no! no!" + +"Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy--oh, hang it, you greedy beast! I'll give +you one hundred thousand. You'd be rich for life then." + +"Would I, curse you!" Silver clenched his fists and backed against the +wall looking decidedly dangerous. "And risk a life-long sentence to get +the money while you take the lion's share." + +"You'd only get ten years at most," argued the visitor, annoyed by what +he considered to be silly objections. + +"Ten years are ten centuries at my time of life. You shan't denounce +me." + +Garvington rose. "Yes, I shall," he declared, rendered desperate by the +dread lest he should lose the million. "I'm going to Wanbury to-night to +tell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest along +with yours as her accomplice." + +Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "You +daren't!" + +"Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not going +to lose a pile of money for your silly scruples." + +"Oh, my lord, consider." Silver in a panic dropped on his knees. "I +shall be shut up for years; it will kill me; it will kill me! And you +don't know what a terrible and clever woman Miss Greeby is. She may deny +that I gave her the revolver and I can't prove that I did. Then I might +be accused of the crime and hanged. Hanged!" cried the poor wretch +miserably. "Oh, you'll never give me away, my lord, will you." + +"Confound you, don't I risk my reputation to get the money," raged +Garvington, shaking off the trembling arms which were round his knees. +"The truth of the letter will have to come out, and then I'm dished so +far as society is concerned. I wouldn't do it--tell that is--but that +the stakes are so large. One million is waiting to be picked up and I'm +going to pick it up." + +"No! no! no! no!" Silver grovelled on the floor and embraced +Garvington's feet. But the more he wailed the more insulting and +determined did the visitor become. Like all tyrants and bullies +Garvington gained strength and courage from the increased feebleness +of his victim. "Don't give me up," wept the secretary, nearly beside +himself with terror; "don't give me up." + +"Oh, damn you, get out of the way!" said Garvington, and made for the +door. "I go straight to Wanbury," which statement was a lie, as he first +intended to see Mother Cockleshell at the camp and make certain that the +reward was safe. But Silver believed him and was goaded to frenzy. + +"You shan't go!" he screamed, leaping to his feet, and before Garvington +knew where he was the secretary had the heavy poker in his grasp. The +little fat lord gave a cry of terror and dodged the first blow which +merely fell on his shoulder. But the second alighted on his head and +with a moan he dropped to the ground. Silver flung away the poker. + +"Are you dead? are you dead?" he gasped, kneeling beside Garvington, and +placed his hand on the senseless man's heart. It still beat feebly, so +he arose with a sigh of relief. "He's only stunned," panted Silver, and +staggered unsteadily to the table to seize a glass of brandy. "I'll, +ah--ah--ah!" he shrieked and dropped the tumbler as a loud and +continuous knocking came to the front door. + +Naturally in his state of panic he believed that the police had actually +arrived, and here he had struck down Lord Garvington. Even though the +little man was not dead, Silver knew that the assault would add to his +punishment, although he might have concluded that the lesser crime was +swallowed up in the greater. But he was too terrified to think of doing +anything save hiding the stunned man, and with a gigantic effort he +managed to fling the body behind the sofa. Then he piled up rugs and +cushions between the wall and the back of the sofa until Garvington was +quite hidden and ran a considerable risk of being suffocated. All the +time the ominous knocking continued, as though the gallows was being +constructed. At least it seemed so to Silver's disturbed fancy, and he +crept along to the door holding the revolver in an unsteady grip. + +"Who--who--is--" + +"Let me in; let me in," said a loud, hard voice. "I'm Miss Greeby. I +have come to save you. Let me in." + +Silver had no hesitation in obeying, since she was in as much danger as +he was and could not hurt him without hurting herself. With trembling +fingers he unbolted the door and opened it, to find her tall and stately +and tremendously impatient on the threshold. She stepped in and banged +the door to without locking it. Silver's teeth chattered so much and his +limbs trembled so greatly that he could scarcely move or speak. On +seeing this--for there was a lamp in the passage--Miss Greeby picked him +up in her big arms like a baby and made for the sitting-room. When, +within she pitched Silver on to the sofa behind which Garvington lay +senseless, and placing her arms akimbo surveyed him viciously. + +"You infernal worm!" said Miss Greeby, grim and savage in her looks, +"you have split on me, have you?" + +"How--how--how do you know?" quavered Silver mechanically, noting that +in her long driving coat with a man's cap she looked more masculine than +ever. + +"How do I know? Because Chaldea was hiding under the studio window this +afternoon and overheard all that passed between you and Garvington and +that meddlesome Lambert. She knew that I was in danger and came at once +to London to tell me since I had given her my address. I lost no time, +but motored down here and dropped her at the camp. Now I've come to get +you out of the country." + +"Me out of the country?" stammered the secretary. + +"Yes, you cowardly swine, although I'd rather choke the life out of you +if it could be done with safety. You denounced me, you beast." + +"I had to; my own neck was in danger." + +"It's in danger now. I'd strangle you for two pins. But I intend to send +you abroad since your evidence is dangerous to me. If you are out of the +way there's no one else can state that I shot Pine. Here's twenty pounds +in gold;" she thrust a canvas bag into the man's shaking hands; "get on +your coat and cap and I'll take you to the nearest seaport wherever that +is. My motor is on the verge of the wood. You must get on board some +ship and sail for the world's end. I'll send you more money when you +write. Come, come," she stamped, "sharp's the word." + +"But--but--but--" + +Miss Greeby lifted him off the sofa by the scruff of the neck. "Do you +want to be killed?" she said between her teeth, "there's no time to be +lost. Chaldea tells me that Lambert threatens to have me arrested." + +The prospect of safety and prosperity in a distant land so appealed to +Silver that he regained his courage in a wonderfully short space of +time. Rising to his feet he hastily drained another glass of brandy and +the color came back to his wan cheeks. But for all the quantity he had +drank that same evening he was not in the least intoxicated. He was +about to rush out of the room to get his coat and cap when Miss Greeby +laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"Is there any one else in the house?" she asked suspiciously. + +Silver cast a glance towards the sofa. "There's no servant," he said in +a stronger voice. "I have been cooking and looking after myself since I +came here. But--but--but--" + +"But what, you hound?" she shook him fiercely. + +"Garvington's behind the sofa." + +"Garvington!" Miss Greeby was on the spot in a moment pulling away the +concealing rugs and cushions. "Have you murdered him?" she demanded, +drawing a deep breath and looking at the senseless man. + +"No, he's only stunned. I struck him with the poker because he wanted to +denounce me." + +"Quite right." Miss Greeby patted the head of her accomplice as if he +were a child, "You're bolder than I thought. Go on; hurry up! Before +Garvington recovers his senses we'll be far enough away. Denounce me; +denounce him, will you?" she said, looking at Garvington while the +secretary slipped out of the room; "you do so at your own cost, my lord. +That forged letter won't tell in your favor. Ha!" she started to her +feet. "What's that! Who's here?" + +She might well ask. There was a struggle going on in the passage, and +she heard cries for help. Miss Greeby flung open the sitting-room door, +and Silver, embracing Mother Cockleshell, tumbled at her feet. "She got +in by the door you left open," cried Silver breathlessly, "hold her or +we are lost; we'll never get away." + +"No, you won't!" shouted the dishevelled old woman, producing a knife to +keep Miss Greeby at bay. "Chaldea came to the camp and I learned through +Kara how she'd brought you down, my Gentile lady. I went to tell the +golden rye, and he's on the way here with the village policeman. You're +done for." + +"Not yet." Miss Greeby darted under the uplifted knife and caught +Gentilla round the waist. The next moment the old woman was flung +against the wall, breathless and broken up. But she still contrived to +hurl curses at the murderess of her grandson. + +"I saw you shoot him; I saw you shoot him," screamed Mother Cockleshell, +trying to rise. + +"Silver, make for the motor; it's near the camp; follow the path," +ordered Miss Greeby breathlessly; "there's no time to be lost. As to +this old devil--" she snatched up a lamp as the secretary dashed out of +the house, and flung it fairly at Gentilla Stanley. In a moment the old +woman was yelling with agony, and scrambled to her feet a pillar of +fire. Miss Greeby laughed in a taunting manner and hurled another lamp +behind the sofa. "You'd have given me up also, would you, Garvington?" +she cried in her deep tone; "take that, and that, and that." + +Lamp after lamp was smashed and burst into flames, until only one was +left. Then Miss Greeby, seeing with satisfaction that the entire room +was on fire and hearing the sound of hasty footsteps and the echoing of +distant voices, rushed in her turn from the cottage. As she bolted the +voice of Garvington screaming with pain and dread was heard as he came +to his senses to find himself encircled by fire. And Mother Cockleshell +also shrieked, not so much because of her agony as to stop Miss Greeby +from escaping. + +"Rye! Rye! she's running; catch her; catch her. Aha--aha--aha!" and she +sank into the now blazing furnace of the room. + +The walls of the cottage were of mud, the partitions and roof of wood +and thatch, so the whole place soon burned like a bonfire. Miss Greeby +shot out of the door and strode at a quick pace across the glade. But as +she passed beyond the monoliths, Lambert, in company with a policeman, +made a sudden appearance and blocked her way of escape. With a grim +determination to thwart him she kilted up her skirts and leaped like a +kangaroo towards the undergrowth beneath the leafless trees. By this +time the flames were shooting through the thatched roof in long scarlet +streamers and illuminated the spectral wood with awful light. + +"Stop! stop!" cried Lambert, racing to cut off the woman's retreat, +closely followed by the constable. + +Miss Greeby laughed scornfully, and instead of avoiding them as they +crossed her path, she darted straight towards the pair. In a moment, by +a dexterous touch of her shoulders right and left, she knocked them over +by taking them unawares, and then sprang down the path which curved +towards the gypsies' encampment. At its end the motor was waiting, and +so vivid was the light that she saw Silver's black figure bending down +as he frantically strove to start the machine. She travelled at top +speed, fearful lest the man should escape without her. + +Then came an onrush of Romany, attracted to the glade by the fire. They +guessed from Miss Greeby's haste that something was seriously wrong and +tried to stop her. But, delivering blows straight from the shoulder, +here, there, and everywhere, the woman managed to break through, and +finally reached the end of the pathway. Here was the motor and safety, +since she hoped to make a dash for the nearest seaport and get out of +the kingdom before the police authorities could act. + +But the stars in their course fought against her. Silver, having started +the machinery, was already handling the steering gear, and bent only +upon saving his own miserable self, had put the car in motion. He could +only drive in a slip-slop amateur way and aimlessly zigzagged down the +sloping bank which fell away to the high road. As the motor began to +gather speed Miss Greeby ran for her life and liberty, ranging at length +breathlessly alongside. The gypsies tailed behind, shouting. + +"Stop, you beast!" screamed Miss Greeby, feeling fear for the first +time, and she tried to grab the car for the purpose of swinging herself +on board. + +But Silver urged it to greater speed. "I save myself; myself," he +shrieked shrilly and unhinged by deadly terror, "get away; get away." + +In his panic he twisted the wheel in the wrong direction, and the big +machine swerved obediently. The next moment Miss Greeby was knocked +down and writhed under the wheels. She uttered a tragic cry, but little +Silver cared for that. Rendered merciless with fear he sent the car +right over her body, and then drove desperately down the hill to gain +the hard road. Miss Greeby, with a broken back, lay on the ground and +saw as in a ghastly dream her machine flash roaring along the highway +driven by a man who could not manage it. Even in her pain a smile crept +over her pale face. + +"He's done for, the little beast," she muttered, "he'll smash. Lambert! +Lambert!" The man whose name she breathed had arrived as she spoke; and +knelt breathlessly beside her to raise her head. "You--you--oh, poor +creature!" he gasped. + +"I'm done for, Lambert," she panted in deadly pain, "back broken. I +sinned for you, but--but you can't hang me. Look--look after +Garvington--Cockleshell too--look--look--Augh!" and she moaned. + +"Where are they?" + +"In--in--the--cottage," murmured the woman, and fell back in a fainting +condition with a would-be sneering laugh. + +Lambert started to his feet with an oath, and leaving the wretched woman +to the care of some gypsies, ran back to the glade. The cottage was a +mass of streaming, crackling flames, and there was no water to +extinguish these, as he realized with sudden fear. It was terrible to +think that the old woman and Garvington were burning in that furnace, +and desperately anxious to save at least one of the two, Lambert tried +to enter the door. But the heat of the fire drove him back, and the +flames seemed to roar at his discomfiture. He could do nothing but stand +helplessly and gaze upon what was plainly Garvington's funeral pyre. + +By this time the villagers were making for the wood, and the whole place +rang with cries of excitement and dismay. The wintry scene was revealed +only too clearly by the ruddy glare and by the same sinister light. +Lambert suddenly beheld Chaldea at his elbow. Gripping his arm, she +spoke hoarsely, "The tiny rye is dead. He drove the engine over a bank +and it smashed him to a pulp." + +"Oh! ah! And--and Miss Greeby?" + +"She is dying." + +Lambert clenched his hands and groaned, "Garvington and Mother +Cockleshell?" + +"She is dead and he is dead by now," said Chaldea, looking with a +callous smile at the burning cottage, "both are dead--Lord Garvington." + +"Lord Garvington?" Lambert groaned again. He had forgotten that he now +possessed the title and what remained of the family estates. + +"Avali!" cried Chaldea, clapping her hands and nodding toward the +cottage with a meaning smile, "there's the bonfire to celebrate the +luck." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +A FINAL SURPRISE. + + +A week later and Lambert was seated in the library of The Manor, looking +worn and anxious. His wan appearance was not due so much to what he had +passed through, trying as late events had been, as to his dread of what +Inspector Darby was about to say. That officer was beside him, getting +ready for an immediate conversation by turning over various papers which +he produced from a large and well-filled pocket-book. Darby looked +complacent and important, as an examination into the late tragedy had +added greatly to his reputation as a zealous officer. Things were now +more ship-shape, as Miss Greeby had died after making confession of her +crime and had been duly buried by her shocked relatives. The ashes of +Lord Garvington and Mother Cockleshell, recovered from the débris of +the cottage, had also been disposed of with religious ceremonies, and +Silver's broken body had been placed in an unwept grave. The frightful +catastrophe which had resulted in the death of four people had been the +talk of the United Kingdom for the entire seven days. + +What Lambert was dreading to hear was the report of Miss Greeby's +confession, which Inspector Darby had come to talk about. He had tried +to see her himself at the village inn, whither she had been transferred +to die, but she had refused to let him come to her dying bed, and +therefore he did not know in what state of mind she had passed away. +Judging from the vindictive spirit which she had displayed, Lambert +fancied that she had told Darby the whole wretched story of the forged +letter and the murder. The last was bound to be confessed, but the young +man had hoped against hope that Miss Greeby would be silent regarding +Garvington's share in the shameful plot. Wickedly as his cousin had +behaved, Lambert did not wish his memory to be smirched and the family +honor to be tarnished by a revelation of the little man's true +character. He heartily wished that the evil Garvington had done might +be buried with him, and the whole sordid affair forgotten. + +"First, my lord," said Darby leisurely, when his papers were in order, +"I have to congratulate your lordship on your accession to the title. +Hitherto so busy have I been that there has been no time to do this." + +"Thank you, Mr. Inspector, but I regret that I should have succeeded +through so tragic a death." + +"Yes, yes, my lord! the feeling does you honor," Darby nodded +sympathetically; "but it must be some comfort for you to know that your +poor cousin perished when on an errand of mercy, although his aim was +not perhaps quite in accordance with strict justice." + +Lambert stared. "I don't know what you mean," he remarked, being puzzled +by this coupling of Garvington's name with any good deed. + +"Of course you don't, my lord. But for you to understand I had better +begin with Miss Greeby's confession. I must touch on some rather +intimate things, however," said the inspector rather shyly. + +"Meaning that Miss Greeby was in love with me." + +"Exactly, my lord. Her love for you--if you will excuse my mentioning so +private a subject--caused the whole catastrophe." + +"Indeed," the young man felt a sense of relief, as if Darby put the +matter in this way the truth about the forged letter could scarcely have +come to light, "will you explain?" + +"Certainly, my lord. Miss Greeby always wished to marry your lordship, +but she knew that you loved your wife, the present Lady Garvington, who +was then Lady Agnes Pine. She believed that you and Lady Agnes would +sooner or later run away together." + +"There was no reason she should think so," said Noel, becoming scarlet. + +"Of course not, my lord. Pardon me again for speaking of such very +private matters. But I can scarcely make your lordship understand how +the late Sir Hubert Pine came by his death unless I am painfully frank." + +"Go on, Mr. Inspector," Noel leaned back and folded his arms. "Be frank +to the verge of rudeness, if you like." + +"Oh, no, no, my lord; certainly not," Darby said in a shocked manner. +"I will be as delicate as I possibly can. Well, then, my lord, Miss +Greeby, thinking that you might elope with the then Lady Agnes Pine, +resolved to place an even greater barrier between you than the +marriage." + +"What could be a possibly greater barrier?" + +"Your honor, my lord, your strict sense of honor. Miss Greeby thought +that if she got rid of Sir Hubert, and Lady Agnes was in possession of +the millions, that you would never risk her losing the same for your +sake." + +"She was right in supposing that, Mr. Inspector, but how did Miss Greeby +know that Lady Agnes would lose the money if she married me?" + +"Sir Hubert told her so himself, my lord, when she discovered that he +was at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael Hearne." + +"His real name." + +"Of course, my lord; of course. And having made this discovery and +knowing how jealous Sir Hubert was of his wife--if you will pardon my +mentioning the fact--Miss Greeby laid a trap to lure him to The Manor +that he might be shot." + +The listener moved uneasily, and he now quite expected to hear the +revelation of Garvington's forgery. "Go on, Mr. Inspector." + +"Miss Greeby," pursued the officer, glancing at his notes, "knew that +the late Mark Silver, who was Sir Hubert's secretary, was not well +disposed toward his employer, as he fancied that he had been cheated out +of the proceeds of certain inventions. Miss Greeby worked on this point +and induced Silver to forge a letter purporting to come from Lady Agnes +to you saying that an elopement had been arranged." + +"Oh," Lambert drew a breath of relief, "so Silver laid a trap, did he?" + +"Yes, my lord, and a very clever one. The letter was arranged by Silver +to fall into Sir Hubert's hands. That unfortunate gentleman came to the +blue door at the appointed time, then Miss Greeby, who had climbed out +of the window of her bedroom to hide in the shrubbery, shot the +unsuspecting man. She then got back into her room--and a very clever +climber she must have been, my lord--and afterward mingled with the +guests." + +"But why did she think of luring Sir Hubert to be shot?" asked Noel with +feigned ignorance, "when she ran such a risk of being discovered?" + +"Ah, my lord, therein lies the cleverness of the idea. Poor Lord +Garvington had threatened to shoot any burglar, and that gave Miss +Greeby the idea. It was her hope that your late cousin might kill Sir +Hubert by mistaking him for a robber, and she only posted herself in the +shrubbery to shoot if Sir Hubert was not killed. He was not, as we know +that the shot fired by Lord Garvington only broke his arm. Miss Greeby +made sure by killing him herself, and very cleverly she did so." + +"And what about my late cousin's philanthropic visit to Silver?" + +"Ah, my lord, that was a mistake. His lordship was informed of the +forged letter by Chaldea the gypsy girl, who found it in Sir Hubert's +tent, and for the sake of your family wished to get Silver out of the +country. It would have been dreadful--as Lord Garvington rightly +considered--that the name of his sister and your name should be +mentioned in connection with an elopement even though it was untrue. He +therefore went to induce Silver to leave the country, but the man, +instead of being grateful, stunned his lordship with a blow from a poker +which he had picked up." + +"How was that known, Mr. Inspector?" + +"Miss Greeby had the truth from his own lips. Silver threatened to +denounce her, and knowing this Chaldea went to London to warn her." + +"Oh," muttered Lambert, thinking of what Gentilla Stanley had said, "how +did she find out?" + +"She overheard a conversation between Silver and Lord Garvington in the +cottage." + +Lambert was relieved again, since Miss Greeby had not evidently +mentioned him as being mixed up with the matter. "Yes, Mr. Inspector, I +can guess the rest. This unfortunate woman came down to get Silver, who +could have hanged her, out of the country, and he set fire to the +cottage." + +"She set fire to it," corrected Darby quickly, "by chance, as she told +me, she overturned a lamp. Of course, Lord Garvington, being senseless, +was burned to death. Gentilla Stanley was also burned." + +"How did she come to be there?" + +"Oh, it seems that Gentilla followed Hearne--he was her grandson I hear +from the gypsies--to The Manor on that night and saw the shooting. But +she said nothing, not feeling sure if her unsupported testimony would be +sufficient to convict Miss Greeby. However, she watched that lady and +followed her to the cottage to denounce her and prevent the escape of +Silver--who knew the truth also, as she ascertained. Silver knocked the +old woman down and stunned her, so she also was burned to death. Then +Silver ran for the motor car and crushed Miss Greeby--since he could not +manage the machine." + +"Did he crush her on purpose, do you think?" + +"No," said Darby after a pause, "I don't think so. Miss Greeby was rich, +and if the pair of them had escaped Silver would have been able to +extort money. He no more killed her than he killed himself by dashing +into that chalk pit near the road. It was mismanagement of the motor in +both cases." + +Lambert was quiet for a time. "Is that all?" he asked, looking up. + +"All, my lord," answered the inspector, gathering his papers together. + +"Is anything else likely to appear in the papers?" + +"No, my lord." + +"I noted," said Lambert slowly, "that there was no mention of the forged +letter made at the inquest." + +Darby nodded. "I arranged that, my lord, since the forged letter made so +free with your lordship's name and that of the present Lady Garvington. +As you probably saw, it was only stated that the late Sir Hubert had +gone to meet his secretary at The Manor and that Miss Greeby, knowing of +his coming, had shot him. The motive was ascribed as anger at the late +Sir Hubert for having lost a great sum of money which Miss Greeby +entrusted to him for the purpose of speculation." + +"And is it true that such money was entrusted and lost?" + +"Perfectly true, my lord. I saw in that fact a chance of hiding the real +truth. It would do no good to make the forged letter public and would +cast discredit both on the dead and the living. Therefore all that has +been said does not even hint at the trap laid by Silver. Now that all +parties concerned are dead and buried, no more will be heard of the +matter, and your lordship can sleep in peace." + +The young man walked up and down the room for a few minutes while the +inspector made ready to depart. Noel was deeply touched by the man's +consideration and made up his mind that he should not lose by the +delicacy he had shown in preserving his name and that of Agnes from +the tongue of gossips. He saw plainly that Darby was a man he could +thoroughly trust and forthwith did so. + +"Mr. Inspector," he said, coming forward to shake hands, "you have acted +in a most kind and generous manner and I cannot show my appreciation of +your behavior more than by telling you the exact truth of this sad +affair." + +"I know the truth," said Darby staring. + +"Not the exact truth, which closely concerns the honor of my family. But +as you have saved that by suppressing certain evidence it is only right +that you should know more than you do know." + +"I shall keep quiet anything that you tell me, my lord," said Darby +greatly pleased; "that is, anything that is consistent with my official +duty." + +"Of course. Also I wish you to know exactly how matters stand, since +there may be trouble with Chaldea." + +"Oh, I don't think so, my lord. Chaldea has married that dwarf." + +"Kara, the Servian gypsy?" + +"Yes. She's given him a bad time, and he put up with it because he had +no authority over her; but now that she's his romi--as these people call +a wife--he'll make her dance to his playing. They left England yesterday +for foreign parts--Hungary, I fancy, my lord. The girl won't come back +in a hurry, for Kara will keep an eye on her." + +Lambert drew a long breath of relief. "I am glad," he said simply, "as +I never should have felt safe while she remained in England." + +"Felt safe?" echoed the officer suspiciously. + +His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again. Then, without +wasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter. +Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly over +the delinquency of the late Lord Garvington. + +"Well! Well!" said the inspector staring, "to think as a nobleman born +and bred should act in this way." + +"Why shouldn't a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?" said Lambert +impatiently, "and according to the socialistic press all the evil of +humanity is to be found in aristocratic circles. However, you know the +exact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret which +concerns the honor of my family. You won't abuse my confidence." + +Darby rose and extended his hand. "You may be sure of that, my lord. +What you have told me will never be repeated. Everything in connection +with this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it." + +"I'm glad and thankful," said the other, again drawing a breath of +relief, "and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shall +send you a substantial check." + +"Oh, my lord, I couldn't take it. I only did my duty." + +"I think you did a great deal more than that," answered the new Lord +Garvington dryly, "and had you acted entirely on the evidence you +gathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserable +woman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keep +private. Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteem +for a man." + +"Thank you, my lord," replied the inspector straightly, "I don't deny +but what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me to +take it since you put it in that way. And as I am not a rich man the +money will be welcome. Thank you!" + +With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offered +up a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out so +admirably. His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer any +danger that the honor of the family, for which so much had been +sacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched. The young man +regretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposed +toward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had left +England under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth--if he knew +anything of the dwarf's jealous disposition--the girl would trouble him +no more. And Silver was dead and buried, which did away with any +possible trouble coming from that quarter. Finally, poor Miss Greeby, +who had sinned for love, was out of the way and there was no need to be +anxious on her account. Fate had made a clean sweep of all the actors in +the tragedy, and Lambert hoped that this particular play was ended. + +When the inspector went away, Lord Garvington sought out his wife and +his late cousin's widow. To them he reported all that had passed and +gave them the joyful assurance that nothing more would be heard in +connection with the late tragic events. Both ladies were delighted. + +"Poor Freddy," sighed Agnes, who had quite forgiven her brother now that +he had paid for his sins, "he behaved very badly; all the same he had +his good points, Noel." + +"Ah, he had, he had," said Lady Garvington, the widow, shaking her +untidy head, "he was selfish and greedy, and perhaps not so thoughtful +as he might have been, but there are worse people than poor Freddy." + +Noel could not help smiling at this somewhat guarded eulogy of the dead, +but did not pursue the subject. "Well, Jane, you must not grieve too +much." + +"No, I shall not," she admitted bluntly, "I am going to be quiet for a +few months and then perhaps I may marry again. But I shall marry a man +who lives on nuts and roots, my dear Noel. Never again," she shuddered, +"shall I bother about the kitchen. I shall burn Freddy's recipes and +cookery books." + +Lady Garvington evidently really felt relieved by the death of her +greedy little husband, although she tried her best to appear sorry. But +the twinkle of relief in her eyes betrayed her, and neither Noel nor +Agnes could blame her. She had enough to live on--since the new lord had +arranged this in a most generous manner--and she was free from the cares +of the kitchen. + +"So I'll go to London in a few days when I've packed up," said the widow +nodding, "you two dears can stay here for your second honeymoon." + +"It will be concerned with pounds, shillings, and pence, then," said +Agnes with a smile, "for Noel has to get the estate put in order. +Things are very bad just now, as I know for certain. But we must try to +save The Manor from going out of the family." + +It was at this moment, and while the trio wondered how the financial +condition of the Lamberts was to be improved, that a message came saying +that Mr. Jarwin wished to see Lord and Lady Garvington in the library. +Wondering what the lawyer had come about, and dreading further bad news, +the young couple descended, leaving the widow to her packing up. They +found the lean, dry solicitor waiting for them with a smiling face. + +"Oh!" said Agnes as she greeted him, "then it's not bad news?" + +"On the contrary," said Jarwin, with his cough, "it is the best of +news." + +Noel looked at him hard. "The best of news to me at the present moment +would be information about money," he said slowly. "I have a title, it +is true, but the estate is much encumbered." + +"You need not trouble about that, Lord Garvington; Mrs. Stanley has put +all that right." + +"What?" asked Agnes greatly agitated. "Has she made over the mortgages +to Noel? Oh, if she only has." + +"She has done better than that," remarked Jarwin, producing a paper of +no great size, "this is her will. She wanted to make a deed of gift, and +probably would have done so had she lived. But luckily she made the +will--and a hard-and-fast one it is--for I drew it up myself," said Mr. +Jarwin complacently. + +"How does the will concern us?" asked Agnes, catching Noel's hand with a +tremor, for she could scarcely grasp the hints of the lawyer. + +"Mrs. Stanley, my dear lady, had a great regard for you since you nursed +her through a dangerous illness. Also you were, as she put it, a good +and true wife to her grandson. Therefore, as she approved of you and of +your second marriage, she has left the entire fortune of your late +husband to you and to Lord Garvington here." + +"Never!" cried Lambert growing pale, while his wife gasped with +astonishment. + +"It is true, and here is the proof," Jarwin shook the parchment, "one +million to you, Lord Garvington, and one million to your wife. Listen, +if you please," and the solicitor read the document in a formal manner +which left no doubt as to the truth of his amazing news. When he +finished the lucky couple looked at one another scarcely able to speak. +It was Agnes who recovered her voice first. + +"Oh, it can't be true--it can't be true," she cried. "Noel, pinch me, +for I must be dreaming." + +"It is true, as the will gives you to understand," said the lawyer, +smiling in his dry way, "and if I may be permitted to say so, Lady +Garvington, never was money more rightfully inherited. You surrendered +everything for the sake of true love, and it is only just that you +should be rewarded. If Mrs. Stanley had lived she intended to keep five +or six thousand for herself so that she could transport certain gypsies +to America, but she would undoubtedly have made a deed of gift of the +rest of the property. Oh, what a very fortunate thing it was that she +made this will," cried Jarwin, genuinely moved at the thought of the +possible loss of the millions, "for her unforeseen death would have +spoiled everything if I had not the forethought to suggest the +testament." + +"It is to you we owe our good fortune." + +"To Mrs. Gentilla Stanley--and to me partially. I only ask for my reward +that you will continue to allow me to see after the property. The fees," +added Jarwin with his dry cough, "will be considerable." + +"You can rob us if you like," said Noel, slapping him on the back. +"Well, to say that I am glad is to speak weakly. I am overjoyed. With +this money we can restore the fortunes of the family again." + +"They will be placed higher than they have ever been before," cried +Agnes with a shining face. "Two millions. Oh, what a lot of good we can +do." + +"To yourselves?" inquired Jarwin dryly. + +"And to others also," said Lambert gravely. "God has been so good to us +that we must be good to others." + +"Then be good to me, Lord Garvington," said the solicitor, putting away +the will in his bag, "for I am dying of hunger. A little luncheon--" + +"A very big one." + +"I am no great eater," said Jarwin, and walked toward the door, "a wash +and brush-up and a plate of soup will satisfy me. And I will say again +what I said before to both of you, that you thoroughly deserve your good +fortune. Lord Garvington, you are the luckier of the two, as you have a +wife who is far above rubies, and--and--dear me, I am talking romance. +So foolish at my age. To think--well--well, I am extremely hungry, so +don't let luncheon be long before it appears," and with a croaking laugh +at his jokes the lawyer disappeared. + +Left alone the fortunate couple fell into one another's arms. It seemed +incredible that the past storm should have been succeeded by so +wonderful a calm. They had been tested by adversity, and they had proved +themselves to be of sterling metal. Before them the future stretched in +a long, smooth road under sunny blue skies, and behind them the black +clouds, out of which they had emerged, were dispersing into thin air. +Evil passes, good endures. + +"Two millions!" sighed Agnes joyfully. + +"Of red money," remarked her husband. + +"Why do you call it that?" + +"Mother Cockleshell--bless her!--called it so because it was tainted +with blood. But we must cleanse the stains, Agnes, by using much of it +to help all that are in trouble. God has been good in settling our +affairs in this way, but He has given me a better gift than the money." + +"What is that?" asked Lady Garvington softly. + +"The love of my dear wife," said the happiest of men to the happiest of +women. + + +THE END. + + + + +Popular Detective Stories by Fergus Hume + +Claude Duval of '95 +A Coin of Edward VII +The Disappearing Eye +The Green Mummy +Lady Jim of Curzon Street +The Mandarin's Fan +The Mystery of a Hansom Cab +The Mystery Queen +The Opal Serpent +The Pagan's Cup +The Rainbow Feather +Red Money +The Red Window +The Sacred Herb +The Sealed Message +The Secret Passage +The Solitary Farm +The Steel Crown +The Yellow Holly +The Peacock of Jewels + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Money, by Fergus Hume + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 15356-8.txt or 15356-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/3/5/15356/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/15356-8.zip b/15356-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c1fa8c --- /dev/null +++ b/15356-8.zip diff --git a/15356-h.zip b/15356-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38a1de8 --- /dev/null +++ b/15356-h.zip diff --git a/15356-h/15356-h.htm b/15356-h/15356-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..10021c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/15356-h/15356-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10889 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Red Money, by AUTHOR. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Money, by Fergus Hume + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Red Money + +Author: Fergus Hume + +Release Date: March 14, 2005 [EBook #15356] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1>RED MONEY</h1> + +<h2>BY FERGUS HUME</h2> + +<p>Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "The Solitary Farm," "The +Peacock of Jewels," "The Red Window," "The Steel Crown," etc.</p> + +<h3>1911</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS" />CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> + + <a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.</b></a> THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a> IN THE WOOD<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a> AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a> SECRETS<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a> THE WOMAN AND THE MAN<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a> THE MAN AND THE WOMAN<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a> THE SECRETARY<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a> AT MIDNIGHT<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a> AFTERWARDS<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X.</b></a> A DIFFICULT POSITION<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI.</b></a> BLACKMAIL<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII.</b></a> THE CONSPIRACY<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII.</b></a> A FRIEND IN NEED<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV.</b></a> MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV.</b></a> GUESSWORK<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI.</b></a> THE LAST STRAW<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII.</b></a> ON THE TRAIL<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII.</b></a> AN AMAZING ACCUSATION<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX.</b></a> MOTHER COCKLESHELL<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX.</b></a> THE DESTINED END<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI.</b></a> A FINAL SURPRISE<br /> + <a href="#Popular_Detective_Stories_by_Fergus_Hume"><b>Popular Detective Stories by Fergus Hume</b></a><br /> + </p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="RED_MONEY" id="RED_MONEY" />RED MONEY</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I" />CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS.</h3> + + +<p>"Gypsies! How very delightful! I really must have my fortune told. The +dear things know all about the future."</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Belgrove spoke she peered through her lorgnette to see if anyone +at the breakfast-table was smiling. The scrutiny was necessary, since +she was the oldest person present, and there did not appear to be any +future for her, save that very certain one connected with a funeral. But +a society lady of sixty, made up to look like one of forty (her maid +could do no more), with an excellent digestion and a constant desire, +like the Athenians of old, for "Something New!" can scarcely be expected +to dwell upon such a disagreeable subject as death. Nevertheless, Mrs. +Belgrove could not disguise from herself that her demise could not be +postponed for many more years, and examined the faces of the other +guests to see if they thought so too. If anyone did, he and she politely +suppressed a doubtful look and applauded the suggestion of a +fortune-telling expedition.</p> + +<p>"Let us make up a party and go," said the hostess, only too thankful to +find something to amuse the house-party for a few hours. "Where did you +say the gypsies were, Garvington?"</p> + +<p>"In the Abbot's Wood," replied her husband, a fat, small round-faced +man, who was methodically devouring a large breakfast.</p> + +<p>"That's only three miles away. We can drive or ride."</p> + +<p>"Or motor, or bicycle, or use Shanks' mare," remarked Miss Greeby rather +vulgarly. Not that any one minded such a speech from her, as her +vulgarity was merely regarded as eccentricity, because she had money and +brains, an exceedingly long tongue, and a memory of other people's +failings to match.</p> + +<p>Lord Garvington made no reply, as breakfast, in his opinion, was much +too serious a business to be interrupted. He reached for the marmalade, +and requested that a bowl of Devonshire cream should be passed along. +His wife, who was lean and anxious-looking even for an August hostess, +looked at him wrathfully. He never gave her any assistance in +entertaining their numerous guests, yet always insisted that the house +should be full for the shooting season. And being poor for a titled +pair, they could not afford to entertain even a shoeblack, much less a +crowd of hungry sportsmen and a horde of frivolous women, who required +to be amused expensively. It was really too bad of Garvington.</p> + +<p>At this point the reflections of the hostess were interrupted by Miss +Greeby, who always had a great deal to say, and who always tried, as an +American would observe, "to run the circus." "I suppose you men will go +out shooting as usual?" she said in her sharp, clear voice.</p> + +<p>The men present collectively declared that such was their intention, and +that they had come to "The Manor" for that especial purpose, so it was +useless to ask them, or any one of them, to go on a fortune-telling +expedition when they could find anything of that sort in Bond Street. +"And it's all a lot of rot, anyhow," declared one sporting youth with +obviously more muscle and money than brains; "no one can tell my +fortune."</p> + +<p>"I can, Billy. You will be Prime Minister," flashed out Miss Greeby, at +which there was a general laugh. Then Garvington threw a bombshell.</p> + +<p>"You'd better get your fortunes told to-day, if you want to," he +grunted, wiping his mustache; "for to-morrow I'm going to have these +rotters moved off my land straight away. They're thieves and liars."</p> + +<p>"So are many other people," snapped Miss Greeby, who had lost heavily at +bridge on the previous night and spoke feelingly.</p> + +<p>Her host paid no attention to her. "There's been a lot of burglaries in +this neighborhood of late. I daresay these gypsies are mixed up in +them."</p> + +<p>"Burglaries!" cried Mrs. Belgrove, and turned pale under her rouge, as +she remembered that she had her diamonds with her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all right! Don't worry," said Garvington, pushing back his +chair. "They won't try on any games in this house while I'm here. If any +one tries to get in I'll shoot the beast."</p> + +<p>"Is that allowed by law?" asked an army officer with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"I don't know and I don't care," retorted Garvington. "An Englishman's +house is his castle, you know, and he can jolly well shoot any one who +tries to get into it. Besides, I shouldn't mind potting a burglar. Great +sport."</p> + +<p>"You'd ask his intentions first, I presume," said Lady Garvington +tartly.</p> + +<p>"Not me. Any one getting into the house after dark doesn't need his +intentions to be asked. I'd shoot."</p> + +<p>"What about Romeo?" asked a poetic-looking young man. "He got into +Juliet's house, but did not come as a burglar."</p> + +<p>"He came as a guest, I believe," said a quiet, silvery voice at the end +of the table, and every one turned to look at Lady Agnes Pine, who had +spoken.</p> + +<p>She was Garvington's sister, and the wife of Sir Hubert Pine, the +millionaire, who was absent from the house party on this occasion. As a +rule, she spoke little, and constantly wore a sad expression on her pale +and beautiful face. And Agnes Pine really was beautiful, being one of +those tall, slim willowy-looking women who always look well and act +charmingly. And, indeed, her undeniable charm of manner probably had +more to do with her reputation as a handsome woman than her actual +physical grace. With her dark hair and dark eyes, her Greek features and +ivory skin faintly tinted with a tea-rose hue, she looked very lovely +and very sad. Why she should be, was a puzzle to many women, as being +the wife of a superlatively rich man, she had all the joys that money +could bring her. Still it was hinted on good authority—but no one ever +heard the name of the authority—that Garvington being poor had forced +her into marrying Sir Hubert, for whom she did not care in the least. +People said that her cousin Noel Lambert was the husband of her choice, +but that she had sacrificed herself, or rather had been compelled to do +so, in order that Garvington might be set on his legs. But Lady Agnes +never gave any one the satisfaction of knowing the exact truth. She +moved through the social world like a gentle ghost, fulfilling her +duties admirably, but apparently indifferent to every one and +everything. "Clippin' to look at," said the young men, "but tombs to +talk to. No sport at all." But then the young men did not possess the +key to Lady Agnes Pine's heart. Nor did her husband apparently.</p> + +<p>Her voice was very low and musical, and every one felt its charm. +Garvington answered her question as he left the room. "Romeo or no +Romeo, guest or no guest," he said harshly, "I'll shoot any beast who +tries to enter my house. Come on, you fellows. We start in half an hour +for the coverts."</p> + +<p>When the men left the room, Miss Greeby came and sat down in a vacant +seat near her hostess. "What did Garvington mean by that last speech?" +she asked with a significant look at Lady Agnes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, when does Garvington ever mean anything?" said the other +woman fretfully. "He is so selfish; he leaves me to do everything."</p> + +<p>"Well," drawled Miss Greeby with a pensive look on her masculine +features, "he looked at Agnes when he spoke."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Lady Garvington sharply.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby gave a significant laugh. "I notice that Mr. Lambert is not +in the house," she said carelessly. "But some one told me he was near at +hand in the neighborhood. Surely Garvington doesn't mean to shoot him."</p> + +<p>"Clara." The hostess sat up very straight, and a spot of color burned on +either sallow cheek. "I am surprised at you. Noel is staying in the +Abbot's Wood Cottage, and indulging in artistic work of some sort. But +he can come and stay here, if he likes. You don't mean to insinuate that +he would climb into the house through a window after dark like a +burglar?"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I do mean," retorted Miss Greeby daringly, "and if he +does, Garvington will shoot him. He said so."</p> + +<p>"He said nothing of the sort," cried Lady Garvington, angrily rising.</p> + +<p>"Well, he meant it. I saw him looking at Agnes. And we know that Sir +Hubert is as jealous as Othello. Garvington is on guard I suppose, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Will you hold your tongue?" whispered the mistress of the Manor +furiously, and she would have shaken Miss Greeby, but that she had +borrowed money from her and did not dare to incur her enmity. "Agnes +will hear you; she is looking this way; can't you see?"</p> + +<p>"As if I cared," laughed Miss Greeby, pushing out her full lower lip in +a contemptuous manner. However, for reasons best known to herself, she +held her peace, although she would have scorned the idea that the hint +of her hostess made her do so.</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington saw that her guests were all chattering with one +another, and that the men were getting ready to leave for the day's +shooting, so she went to discuss the dinner in the housekeeper's room. +But all the time she and the housekeeper were arguing what Lord +Garvington would like in the way of food, the worried woman was +reflecting on what Miss Greeby had said. When the menu was finally +settled—no easy task when it concerned the master of the house—Lady +Garvington sought out Mrs. Belgrove. That juvenile ancient was sunning +herself on the terrace, in the hope of renewing her waning vitality, +and, being alone, permitted herself to look old. She brisked up with a +kittenish purr when disturbed, and remarked that the Hengishire air was +like champagne. "My spirits are positively wild and wayward," said the +would-be Hebe with a desperate attempt to be youthful.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you haven't got the house to look after," sighed Lady Garvington, +with a weary look, and dropped into a basket chair to pour out her woes +to Mrs. Belgrove. That person was extremely discreet, as years of +society struggling had taught her the value of silence. Her discretion +in this respect brought her many confidences, and she was renowned for +giving advice which was never taken.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, my dear? You look a hundred," said Mrs. Belgrove, +putting up her lorgnette with a chuckle, as if she had made an original +observation. But she had not, for Lady Garvington always appeared worn +and weary, and sallow, and untidy. She was the kind of absent-minded +person who depended upon pins to hold her garments together, and who +would put on her tiara crookedly for a drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Clara Greeby's a cat," said poor, worried Lady Garvington, hunting for +her pocket handkerchief, which was rarely to be found.</p> + +<p>"Has she been making love to Garvington?"</p> + +<p>"Pooh! No woman attracts Garvington unless she can cook, or knows +something about a kitchen range. I might as well have married a soup +tureen. I'm sure I don't know why I ever did marry him," lamented the +lady, staring at the changing foliage of the park trees. "He's a pauper +and a pig, my dear, although I wouldn't say so to every one. I wish my +mother hadn't insisted that I should attend cooking classes."</p> + +<p>"What on earth has that to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"To do with what?" asked Lady Garvington absentmindedly. "I don't know +what you're talking about, I'm sure. But mother knew that Garvington was +fond of a good dinner, and made me attend those classes, so as to learn +to talk about French dishes. We used to flirt about soups and creams and +haunches of venison, until he thought that I was as greedy as he was. So +he married me, and I've been attending to his meals ever since. Why, +even for our honeymoon we went to Mont St. Michel. They make splendid +omelettes there, and Garvington ate all the time. Ugh!" and the poor +lady shuddered.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belgrove saw that her companion was meandering, and would never +come to the point unless forced to face it, so she rapped her knuckles +with the lorgnette. "What about Clara Greeby?" she demanded sharply.</p> + +<p>"She's a cat!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we're all cats, mewing or spitting as the fit takes us," said Mrs. +Belgrove comfortably. "I can't see why cat should be a term of +opprobrium when applied to a woman. Cats are charmingly pretty animals, +and know what they want, also how to get it. Well, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"I believe she was in love with Noel herself," ruminated Lady +Garvington.</p> + +<p>"Who was in love? Come to the point, my dear Jane."</p> + +<p>"Clara Greeby."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belgrove laughed. "Oh, that ancient history. Every one who was +anybody knew that Clara would have given her eyes—and very ugly eyes +they are—to have married Noel Lambert. I suppose you mean him? Noel +isn't a common name. Quite so. You mean him. Well, Clara wanted to buy +him. He hasn't any money, and as a banker's heiress she is as rich as a +Jew. But he wouldn't have her."</p> + +<p>"Why wouldn't he?" asked Lady Garvington, waking up—she had been +reflecting about a new soup which she hoped would please her husband. +"Clara has quite six thousand a year, and doesn't look bad when her maid +makes her dress in a proper manner. And, talking about maids, mine wants +to leave, and—"</p> + +<p>"She's too like Boadicea," interrupted Mrs. Belgrove, keeping her +companion to the subject of Miss Greeby. "A masculine sort of hussy. +Noel is far too artistic to marry such a maypole. She's six foot two, if +she's an inch, and her hands and feet—" Mrs. Belgrove shuddered with a +gratified glance at her own slim fingers.</p> + +<p>"You know the nonsense that Garvington was talking; about shooting a +burglar," said the other woman vaguely. "Such nonsense, for I'm sure no +burglar would enter a house filled with nothing but Early Victorian +furniture."</p> + +<p>"Well? Well? Well?" said Mrs. Belgrove impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Clara Beeby thought that Garvington meant to shoot Noel."</p> + +<p>"Why, in heaven's name! Because Noel is his heir?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I can't help it if I've no children," said Lady Garvington, +going off on another trail—the one suggested by Mrs. Belgrove's remark. +"I'd be a happier woman if I had something else to attend to than +dinners. I wish we all lived on roots, so that Garvington could dig them +up for himself."</p> + +<p>"My dear, he'd send you out with a trowel to do that," said Mrs. +Belgrove humorously. "But why does Garvington want to shoot Noel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he doesn't. I never said he did. Clara Greeby made the remark. You +see, Noel loved Agnes before she married Hubert, and I believe he loves +her still, which isn't right, seeing she's married, and isn't half so +good-looking as she was. And Noel stopping at that cottage in the +Abbot's Wood painting in water-colors. I think he is, but I'm not sure +if it isn't in oils, and the—"</p> + +<p>"Well? Well? Well?" asked Mrs. Belgrove again.</p> + +<p>"It isn't well at all, when you think what a tongue Clara Greeby has," +snapped Lady Garvington. "She said if Noel came to see Agnes by night, +Garvington, taking him for a burglar, might shoot him. She insisted that +he looked at Agnes when he was talking about burglars, and meant that."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" cried Mrs. Belgrove vigorously, at last having arrived +at a knowledge of why Lady Garvington had sought her. "Noel can come +here openly, so there is no reason he should steal here after dark."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's romantic, you know, dear. And romantic people always prefer +windows to doors and darkness to light. The windows here are so +insecure," added Lady Garvington, glancing at the facade above her +untidy hair. "He could easily get in by sticking a penknife in between +the upper and lower sash of the window. It would be quite easy."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense you talk, Jane," said Mrs. Belgrove, impatiently. "Noel +is not the man to come after a married woman when her husband is away. I +have known him since he was a Harrow schoolboy, so I have every right to +speak. Where is Sir Hubert?"</p> + +<p>"He is at Paris or Pekin, or something with a 'P,'" said Lady Garvington +in her usual vague way. "I'm sure I don't know why he can't take Agnes +with him. They get on very well for a married couple."</p> + +<p>"All the same she doesn't love him."</p> + +<p>"He loves her, for I'm sure he's that jealous that he can't scarcely +bear her out of his sight."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that he can," remarked Mrs. Belgrove dryly. "Since he is +at Paris or Pekin and she is here."</p> + +<p>"Garvington is looking after her, and he owes Sir Hubert too much, not +to see that Agnes is all right."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belgrove peered at Lady Garvington through her lorgnette. "I think +you talk a great deal of nonsense, Jane, as I said before," she +observed. "I don't suppose for one moment that Agnes thinks of Noel, or +Noel of Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Clara Greeby says—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what she says and what she wishes. She would like to get +Noel into trouble with Sir Hubert over Agnes, simply because he will not +marry her. As to her chatter about burglars—"</p> + +<p>"Garvington's chatter," corrected her companion.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Garvington's. It's all rubbish. Agnes is a sweet girl, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Girl?" Lady Garvington laughed disdainfully. "She is twenty-five."</p> + +<p>"A mere baby. People cannot be called old until they are seventy or +eighty. It is a bad habit growing old. I have never encouraged it +myself. By the way, tell me something about Sir Hubert Pine. I have only +met him once or twice. What kind of a man is he?"</p> + +<p>"Tall, and thin, and dark, and—"</p> + +<p>"I know his appearance. But his nature?"</p> + +<p>"He's jealous, and can be very disagreeable when he likes. I don't know +who he is, or where he came from. He made his money out of penny toys +and South African investments. He was a member of Parliament for a few +years, and helped his party so much with money that he was knighted. +That's all I know of him, except that he is very mean."</p> + +<p>"Mean? What you tell me doesn't sound mean."</p> + +<p>"I'm talking of his behavior to Garvington," explained the hostess, +touching her ruffled hair, "he doesn't give us enough money."</p> + +<p>"Why should he give you any?" asked Mrs. Belgrove bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, dear, Garvington would never have allowed his sister to +marry a nobody, unless—"</p> + +<p>"Unless the nobody paid for his footing. I quite understand. Every one +knows that Agnes married the man to save her family from bankruptcy. +Poor girl!" Mrs. Belgrove sighed. "And she loved Noel. What a shame that +she couldn't become his wife!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that would have been absurd," said Lady Garvington pettishly. +"What's the use of Hunger marrying Thirst? Noel has no money, just like +ourselves, and if it hadn't been for Hubert this place would have been +sold long ago. I'm telling you secrets, mind."</p> + +<p>"My dear, you tell me nothing that everybody doesn't know."</p> + +<p>"Then what is your advice?"</p> + +<p>"About what, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"About what I have been telling you. The burglar, and—"</p> + +<p>"I have told you before, that it is rubbish. If a burglar does come here +I hope Lord Garvington will shoot him, as I don't want to lose my +diamonds."</p> + +<p>"But if the burglar is Noel?"</p> + +<p>"He won't be Noel. Clara Greeby has simply made a nasty suggestion which +is worthy of her. But if you're afraid, why not get her to marry Noel?"</p> + +<p>"He won't have her," said Lady Garvington dolefully.</p> + +<p>"I know he won't. Still a persevering woman can do wonders, and Clara +Greeby has no self-respect. And if you think Noel is too near, get Agnes +to join her husband in Pekin."</p> + +<p>"I think it's Paris."</p> + +<p>"Well then, Paris. She can buy new frocks."</p> + +<p>"Agnes doesn't care for new frocks. Such simple tastes she has, wanting +to help the poor. Rubbish, I call it."</p> + +<p>"Why, when her husband helps Lord Garvington?" asked Mrs. Belgrove +artlessly.</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington frowned. "What horrid things you say."</p> + +<p>"I only repeat what every one is saying."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure I don't care," cried Lady Garvington recklessly, and +rose to depart on some vague errand. "I'm only in the world to look +after dinners and breakfasts. Clara Greeby's a cat making all this fuss +about—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! There she is."</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington fluttered round, and drifted towards Miss Greeby, who +had just stepped out on to the terrace. The banker's daughter was in a +tailor-made gown with a man's cap and a man's gloves, and a man's +boots—at least, as Mrs. Belgrove thought, they looked like that—and +carried a very masculine stick, more like a bludgeon than a cane. With +her ruddy complexion and ruddy hair, and piercing blue eyes, and +magnificent figure—for she really had a splendid figure in spite of +Mrs. Belgrove's depreciation—she looked like a gigantic Norse goddess. +With a flashing display of white teeth, she came along swinging her +stick, or whirling her shillalah, as Mrs. Belgrove put it, and seemed +the embodiment of coarse, vigorous health.</p> + +<p>"Taking a sun-bath?" she inquired brusquely and in a loud baritone +voice. "Very wise of you two elderly things. I am going for a walk."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belgrove was disagreeable in her turn. "Going to the Abbot's Wood?"</p> + +<p>"How clever of you to guess," Miss Greeby smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm +going to look up Lambert"; she always spoke of her male friends in this +hearty fashion. "He ought to be here enjoying himself instead of living +like a hermit in the wilds."</p> + +<p>"He's painting pictures," put in Lady Garvington. "Do hermits paint?"</p> + +<p>"No. Only society women do that," said Miss Greeby cheerfully, and Mrs. +Belgrove's faded eyes flashed. She knew that the remark was meant for +her, and snapped back. "Are you going to have your fortune told by the +gypsies, dear?" she inquired amiably. "They might tell you about your +marriage."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I daresay, and if you ask they will prophesy your funeral."</p> + +<p>"I am in perfect health, Miss Greeby."</p> + +<p>"So I should think, since your cheeks are so red."</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington hastily intervened to prevent the further exchange of +compliments. "Will you be back to luncheon, or join the men at the +coverts?"</p> + +<p>"Neither. I'll drop on Lambert for a feed. Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," said the hostess vaguely. "There's lots to do. +I shall know what's to be done, when I think of it," and she drifted +along the terrace and into the house like a cloud blown any way by the +wind. Miss Greeby looked after her limp figure with a contemptuous grin, +then she nodded casually to Mrs. Belgrove, and walked whistling down the +terrace steps.</p> + +<p>"Cat, indeed!" commented Mrs. Belgrove to herself when she saw Miss +Greeby's broad back disappear behind the laurels. "Nothing half so +pretty. She's like a great Flanders mare. And I wish Henry VIII was +alive to marry her," she added the epithet suggesting that king, "if +only to cut her head off."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II" />CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE WOOD.</h3> + + +<p>Miss Greeby swung along towards her destination with a masculine stride +and in as great a hurry as though she had entered herself for a Marathon +race. It was a warm, misty day, and the pale August sunshine radiated +faintly through the smoky atmosphere. Nothing was clear-cut and nothing +was distinct, so hazy was the outlook. The hedges were losing their +greenery and had blossomed forth into myriad bunches of ruddy hips and +haws, and the usually hard road was soft underfoot because of the +penetrating quality of the moist air. There was no wind to clear away +the misty greyness, but yellow leaves without its aid dropped from the +disconsolate trees. The lately-reaped fields, stretching on either side +of the lane down which the lady was walking, presented a stubbled +expanse of brown and dim gold, uneven and distressful to the eye. The +dying world was in ruins and Nature had reduced herself to that +necessary chaos, out of which, when the coming snow completed its task, +she would build a new heaven and a new earth.</p> + +<p>An artist might have had some such poetic fancy, and would certainly +have looked lovingly on the alluring colors and forms of decay. But Miss +Greeby was no artist, and prided herself upon being an aggressively +matter-of-fact young woman. With her big boots slapping the ground and +her big hands thrust into the pockets of her mannish jacket, she bent +her head in a meditative fashion and trudged briskly onward. What +romance her hard nature was capable of, was uppermost now, but it +had to do strictly with her personal feelings and did not require the +picturesque autumn landscape to improve or help it in any way. One man's +name suggested romance to bluff, breezy Clara Greeby, and that name was +Noel Lambert. She murmured it over and over again to her heart, and her +hard face flushed into something almost like beauty, as she remembered +that she would soon behold its owner. "But he won't care," she said +aloud, and threw back her head defiantly: then after a pause, she +breathed softly, "But I shall make him care."</p> + +<p>If she hoped to do so, the task was one which required a great amount of +skill and a greater amount of womanly courage, neither of which +qualities Miss Greeby possessed. She had no skill in managing a man, as +her instincts were insufficiently feminine, and her courage was of a +purely rough-and-tumble kind. She could have endured hunger and thirst +and cold: she could have headed a forlorn hope: she could have held to a +sinking ship: but she had no store of that peculiar feminine courage +which men don't understand and which women can't explain, however much +they may exhibit it. Miss Greeby was an excellent comrade, but could not +be the beloved of any man, because of the very limitations of +semi-masculinity upon which she prided herself. Noel Lambert wanted a +womanly woman, and Lady Agnes was his ideal of what a wife should be. +Miss Greeby had in every possible way offered herself for the post, but +Lambert had never cared for her sufficiently to endure the thought of +passing through life with her beside him. He said she was "a good sort"; +and when a man says that of a woman, she may be to him a good friend, or +even a platonic chum, but she can never be a desirable wife in his eyes. +What Miss Greeby lacked was sex, and lacking that, lacked everything. It +was strange that with her rough common sense she could not grasp this +want. But the thought that Lambert required what she could never +give—namely, the feminine tenderness which strong masculine natures +love—never crossed her very clear and mathematical mind.</p> + +<p>So she was bent upon a fool's errand, as she strode towards the Abbot's +Wood, although she did not know it. Her aim was to capture Lambert as +her husband; and her plan, to accomplish her wish by working on the +heart-hunger he most probably felt, owing to the loss of Agnes Pine. If +he loved that lady in a chivalrous fashion—and Miss Greeby believed +that he did—she was absolutely lost to him as the wife of another man. +Lambert would never degrade her into a divorce court appearance. And +perhaps, after all, as Miss Greeby thought hopefully, his love for Sir +Hubert's wife might have turned to scorn that she had preferred money to +true love. But then, again, as Miss Greeby remembered, with a darkening +face, Agnes had married the millionaire so as to save the family estates +from being sold. Rank has its obligation, and Lambert might approve of +the sacrifice, since he was the next heir to the Garvington title. "We +shall see what his attitude is," decided Miss Greeby, as she entered the +Abbot's Wood, and delayed arranging her future plans until she fully +understood his feelings towards the woman he had lost. In the meantime, +Lambert would want a comrade, and Miss Greeby was prepared to sink her +romantic feelings, for the time being, in order to be one.</p> + +<p>The forest—which belonged to Garvington, so long as he paid the +interest on the mortgage—was not a very large one. In the old days it +had been of greater size and well stocked with wild animals; so well +stocked, indeed, that the abbots of a near monastery had used it for +many hundred years as a hunting ground. But the monastery had vanished +off the face of the earth, as not even its ruins were left, and the game +had disappeared as the forest grew smaller and the district around +became more populous. A Lambert of the Georgian period—the family name +of Lord Garvington was Lambert—had acquired what was left of the +monastic wood by winning it at a game of cards from the nobleman who had +then owned it. Now it was simply a large patch of green in the middle of +a somewhat naked county, for Hengishire is not remarkable for woodlands. +There were rabbits and birds, badgers, stoats, and such-like wild things +in it still, but the deer which the abbots had hunted were conspicuous +by their absence. Garvington looked after it about as much as he did +after the rest of his estates, which was not saying much. The fat, round +little lord's heart was always in the kitchen, and he preferred eating +to fulfilling his duties as a landlord. Consequently, the Abbot's Wood +was more or less public property, save when Garvington turned crusty and +every now and then cleared out all interlopers. But tramps came to sleep +in the wood, and gypsies camped in its glades, while summer time brought +many artists to rave about its sylvan beauties, and paint pictures of +ancient trees and silent pools, and rugged lawns besprinkled with +rainbow wild flowers. People who went to the Academy and to the various +art exhibitions in Bond Street knew the Abbot's Wood fairly well, as it +was rarely that at least one picture dealing with it did not appear.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby had explored the wood before and knew exactly where to find +the cottage mentioned by Lady Garvington. On the verge of the trees she +saw the blue smoke of the gypsies' camp fires, and heard the vague +murmur of Romany voices, but, avoiding the vagrants, she took her way +through the forest by a winding path. This ultimately led her to a +spacious glade, in the centre of which stood a dozen or more rough +monoliths of mossy gray and weather-worn stones, disposed in a circle. +Probably these were all that remained of some Druidical temple, and +archaeologists came from far and near to view the weird relics. And in +the middle of the circle stood the cottage: a thatched dwelling, which +might have had to do with a fairy tale, with its whitewashed walls +covered with ivy, and its latticed windows, on the ledges of which stood +pots of homely flowers. There was no fence round this rustic dwelling, +as the monoliths stood as guardians, and the space between the cottage +walls and the gigantic stones was planted thickly with fragrant English +flowers. Snapdragon, sweet-william, marigolds, and scented clove +carnations, were all to be found there: also there was thyme, mint, +sage, and other pot-herbs. And the whole perfumed space was girdled by +trees old and young, which stood back from the emerald beauty of +untrimmed lawns. A more ideal spot for a dreamer, or an artist, or a +hermit, or for the straying prince of a fairy tale, it would have been +quite impossible to find. Miss Greeby's vigorous and coarse personality +seemed to break in a noisy manner—although she did not utter a single +word—the enchanted silence of the solitary place.</p> + +<p>However, the intruder was too matter-of-fact to trouble about the +sequestered liveliness of this unique dwelling. She strode across the +lawns, and passing beyond the monoliths, marched like an invader up the +narrow path between the radiant flower-beds. From the tiny green door +she raised the burnished knocker and brought it down with an emphatic +bang. Shortly the door opened with a pettish tug, as though the person +behind was rather annoyed by the noise, and a very tall, well-built, +slim young man made his appearance on the threshold. He held a palette +on the thumb of one hand, and clutched a sheaf of brushes, while another +brush was in his mouth, and luckily impeded a rather rough welcome. The +look in a pair of keen blue eyes certainly seemed to resent the +intrusion, but at the sight of Miss Greeby this irritability changed to +a glance of suspicion. Lambert, from old associations, liked his visitor +very well on the whole, but that feminine intuition, which all creative +natures possess, warned him that it was wise to keep her at arm's +length. She had never plainly told her love; but she had assuredly +hinted at it more or less by eye and manner and undue hauntings of his +footsteps when in London. He could not truthfully tell himself that he +was glad of her unexpected visit. For quite half a minute they stood +staring at one another, and Miss Greeby's hard cheeks flamed to a poppy +red at the sight of the man she loved.</p> + +<p>"Well, Hermit." she observed, when he made no remark. "As the mountain +would not come to Mahomet, the prophet has come to the mountain."</p> + +<p>"The mountain is welcome," said Lambert diplomatically, and stood +aside, so that she might enter. Then adopting the bluff and breezy, +rough-and-ready-man-to-man attitude, which Miss Greeby liked to see in +her friends, he added: "Come in, old girl! It's a pal come to see a pal, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Rather," assented Miss Greeby, although, woman-like, she was not +entirely pleased with this unromantic welcome. "We played as brats +together, didn't we?</p> + +<p>"Yes," she added meditatively, when following Lambert into his studio, +"I think we are as chummy as a man and woman well can be."</p> + +<p>"True enough. You were always a good sort, Clara. How well you are +looking—more of a man than ever."</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop that!" said Miss Greeby roughly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" Lambert raised his eyebrows. "As a girl you always liked to be +thought manly, and said again and again that you wished you were a boy."</p> + +<p>"I find that I am a woman, after all," sighed the visitor, dropping into +a chair and looking round; "with a woman's feelings, too."</p> + +<p>"And very nice those feelings are, since they have influenced you to pay +me a visit in the wilds," remarked the artist imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing in the wilds?"</p> + +<p>"Painting," was the laconic retort.</p> + +<p>"So I see. Still-life pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly." He pointed toward the easel. "Behold and approve."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby did behold, but she certainly did not approve, because she +was a woman and in love. It was only a pictured head she saw, but the +head was that of a very beautiful girl, whose face smiled from the +canvas in a subtle, defiant way, as if aware of its wild loveliness. The +raven hair streamed straightly down to the shoulders—for the bust of +the model was slightly indicated—and there, bunched out into curls. A +red and yellow handkerchief was knotted round the brows, and dangling +sequins added to its barbaric appearance. Nose and lips and eyes, and +contours, were all perfect, and it really seemed as though the face were +idealized, so absolutely did it respond to all canons of beauty. It was +a gypsy countenance, and there lurked in its loveliness that wild, +untamed look which suggested unrestricted roamings and the spacious +freedom of the road.</p> + +<p>The sudden, jealous fear which surged into Miss Greeby's heart climbed +to her throat and choked her speech. But she had wisdom enough to check +unwise words, and glanced round the studio to recover her composure. The +room was small and barely furnished; a couch, two deep arm-chairs, and a +small table filled its limited area. The walls and roof were painted a +pale green, and a carpet of the same delicate hue covered the floor. Of +course, there were the usual painting materials, brushes and easel and +palettes and tubes of color, together with a slightly raised platform +near the one window where the model could sit or stand. The window +itself had no curtains and was filled with plain glass, affording plenty +of light.</p> + +<p>"The other windows of the cottage are latticed," said Lambert, seeing +his visitor's eyes wander in that direction. "I had that glass put in +when I came here a month ago. No light can filter through lattices—in +sufficient quantity that is—to see the true tones of the colors."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother the window!" muttered Miss Greeby restlessly, for she had +not yet gained command of her emotions.</p> + +<p>Lambert laughed and looked at his picture with his head on one side, and +a very handsome head it was, as Miss Greeby thought. "It bothered me +until I had it put right, I assure you. But you don't seem pleased with +my crib."</p> + +<p>"It's not good enough for you."</p> + +<p>"Since when have I been a sybarite, Clara?"</p> + +<p>"I mean you ought to think of your position."</p> + +<p>"It's too unpleasant to think about," rejoined Lambert, throwing himself +on the couch and producing his pipe. "May I smoke?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and if you have any decent cigarettes I'll join you. Thanks!" She +deftly caught the silver case he threw her. "But your position?"</p> + +<p>"Five hundred a year and no occupation, since I have been brought up to +neither trade nor profession," said Lambert leisurely. "Well?"</p> + +<p>"You are the heir to a title and to a large property."</p> + +<p>"Which is heavily mortgaged. As to the title"—Lambert shrugged his +shoulders—"Garvington's wife may have children."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so. They have been married ten years and more. You are +certain to come in for everything."</p> + +<p>"Everything consists of nothing," said the artist coolly.</p> + +<p>"Well," drawled Miss Greeby, puffing luxuriously at her cigarette, which +was Turkish and soothing, "nothing may turn into something when these +mortgages are cleared off."</p> + +<p>"Who is going to clear them off?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert Pine."</p> + +<p>Lambert's brows contracted, as she knew they would when this name was +mentioned, and he carefully attended to filling his pipe so as to avoid +meeting her hard, inquisitive eyes. "Pine is a man of business, and if +he pays off the mortgages he will take over the property as security. I +don't see that Garvington will be any the better off in that case."</p> + +<p>"Lambert," said Miss Greeby very decidedly, and determined to know +precisely what he felt like, "Garvington only allowed his sister to +marry Sir Hubert because he was rich. I don't know for certain, of +course, but I should think it probable that he made an arrangement with +Pine to have things put straight because of the marriage."</p> + +<p>"Possible and probable," said the artist shortly, and wincing; "but old +friend as you are, Clara, I don't see the necessity of talking about +business which does not concern me. Speak to Garvington."</p> + +<p>"Agnes concerns you."</p> + +<p>"How objectionably direct you are," exclaimed Lambert in a vexed tone. +"And how utterly wrong. Agnes does not concern me in the least. I loved +her, but as she chose to marry Pine, why there's no more to be said."</p> + +<p>"If there was nothing more to be said," observed Miss Greeby shrewdly, +"you would not be burying yourself here."</p> + +<p>"Why not? I am fond of nature and art, and my income is not enough to +permit my living decently in London. I had to leave the army because I +was so poor. Garvington has given me this cottage rent free, so I'm +jolly enough with my painting and with Mrs. Tribb as housekeeper and +cook. She's a perfect dream of a cook," ended Lambert thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby shook her red head. "You can't deceive me."</p> + +<p>"Who wants to, anyhow?" demanded the man, unconsciously American.</p> + +<p>"You do. You wish to make out that you prefer to camp here instead of +admitting that you would like to be at The Manor because Agnes—"</p> + +<p>Lambert jumped up crossly. "Oh, leave Agnes out of the question. She is +Pine's wife, so that settles things. It's no use crying for the moon, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Then you still wish for the moon," interpolated the woman quickly.</p> + +<p>"Not even you have the right to ask me such a question," replied Lambert +in a quiet and decisive tone. "Let us change the subject."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby pointed to the beautiful face smiling on the easel. "I +advise you to," she said significantly.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have come here to give me good advice."</p> + +<p>"Which you won't take," she retorted.</p> + +<p>"Because it isn't needed."</p> + +<p>"A man's a man and a woman's a woman."</p> + +<p>"That's as true as taxes, as Mr. Barkis observed, if you are acquainted +with the writings of the late Charles Dickens. Well?"</p> + +<p>Again Miss Greeby pointed to the picture. "She's very pretty."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't have painted her otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then the original of that portrait does exist?"</p> + +<p>"Could you call it a portrait if an original didn't exist?" demanded +the young man tartly. "Since you want to know so much, you may as well +come to the gypsy encampment on the verge of the wood and satisfy +yourself." He threw on a Panama hat, with a cross look. "Since when have +you come to the conclusion that I need a dry nurse?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk bosh!" said Miss Greeby vigorously, and springing to her +feet. "You take me at the foot of the letter and too seriously. I only +came here to see how my old pal was getting on."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right and as jolly as a sandboy. Now are you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Quite. Only don't fall in love with the original of your portrait."</p> + +<p>"It's rather late in the day to warn me," said Lambert dryly, "for I +have known the girl for six months. I met her in a gypsy caravan when on +a walking tour, and offered to paint her. She is down here with her +people, and you can see her whenever you have a mind to."</p> + +<p>"There's no time like the present," said Miss Greeby, accepting the +offer with alacrity. "Come along, old boy." Then, when they stepped out +of the cottage garden on to the lawns, she asked pointedly, "What is her +name?"</p> + +<p>"Chaldea."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. That is the name of the country."</p> + +<p>"I never denied that, my dear girl. But Chaldea was born in the country +whence she takes her name. Down Mesopotamia way, I believe. These +gypsies wander far and wide, you know. She's very pretty, and has the +temper of the foul fiend himself. Only Kara can keep her in order."</p> + +<p>"Who is Kara?"</p> + +<p>"A Servian gypsy who plays the fiddle like an angel. He's a +crooked-backed, black-faced, hairy ape of a dwarf, but highly popular on +account of his music. Also, he's crazy about Chaldea, and loves her to +distraction."</p> + +<p>"Does she love him?" Miss Greeby asked in her direct fashion.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Lambert, coloring under his tan, and closed his lips +firmly. He was a very presentable figure of a man, as he walked beside +the unusually tall woman. His face was undeniably handsome in a fair +Saxon fashion, and his eyes were as blue as those of Miss Greeby +herself, while his complexion was much more delicate. In fact, she +considered that it was much too good a complexion for one of the male +sex, but admitted inwardly that its possessor was anything but +effeminate, when he had such a heavy jaw, such a firm chin, and such set +lips. Lambert, indeed, at first sight did indeed look so amiable, as to +appear for the moment quite weak; but danger always stiffened him into a +dangerous adversary, and his face when aroused was most unpleasantly +fierce. He walked with a military swing, his shoulders well set back and +his head crested like that of a striking serpent. A rough and warlike +life would have brought out his best points of endurance, capability to +plan and strike quickly, and iron decision; but the want of opportunity +and the enervating influences of civilized existence, made him a man of +possibilities. When time, and place, and chance offered he could act the +hero with the best; but lacking these things he remained innocuous like +gunpowder which has no spark to fire it.</p> + +<p>Thinking of these things, Miss Greeby abandoned the subject of Chaldea, +and of her possible love for Lambert, and exclaimed impulsively, "Why +don't you chuck civilization and strike the out-trail?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" he asked, unmoved, and rather surprised by the change of +the subject. "I'm quite comfortable here."</p> + +<p>"Too comfortable," she retorted with emphasis. "This loafing life of +just-enough-to-live-on doesn't give you a chance to play the man. Go out +and fight and colonize and prove your qualities."</p> + +<p>Lambert's color rose again, and his eyes sparkled. "I would if the +chance—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, bah, Hercules and Omphale!" interrupted his companion.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," retorted Miss Greeby, who guessed that he knew what she +meant very well. His quick flush showed her how he resented this +classical allusion to Agnes Pine. "You'd carry her off if you were a +man."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea?" asked Lambert, wilfully misunderstanding her meaning.</p> + +<p>"If you like. Only don't try to carry her off at night. Garvington says +he will shoot any burglar who comes along after dark."</p> + +<p>"I never knew Garvington had anything to do with Chaldea."</p> + +<p>"Neither did I. Oh, I think you know very well what I mean."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I do," said the young man with an angry shrug, for really her +interference with his affairs seemed to be quite unjustifiable. "But I +am not going to bring a woman I respect into the Divorce Court."</p> + +<p>"Respect? Love, you mean to say."</p> + +<p>Lambert stopped, and faced her squarely. "I don't wish to quarrel with +you, Clara, as we are very old friends. But I warn you that I do possess +a temper, and if you wish to see it, you are going the best way to get +what you evidently want. Now, hold your tongue and talk of something +else. Here is Chaldea."</p> + +<p>"Watching for you," muttered Miss Greeby, as the slight figure of the +gypsy girl was seen advancing swiftly. "Ha!" and she snorted +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Rye!" cried Chaldea, dancing toward the artist. "Sarishan rye."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby didn't understand Romany, but the look in the girl's eyes +was enough to reveal the truth. If Lambert did not love his beautiful +model, it was perfectly plain that the beautiful model loved Lambert.</p> + +<p>"O baro duvel atch' pa leste!" said Chaldea, and clapped her slim hands.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III" />CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION.</h3> + + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't speak the calo jib to me, Chaldea," said Lambert, +smiling on the beautiful eager face. "You know I don't understand it."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," put in Miss Greeby in her manly tones. "What does Oh baro devil, +and all the rest of it mean?"</p> + +<p>"The Great God be with you," translated Chaldea swiftly, "and duvel is +not devil as you Gorgios call it."</p> + +<p>"Only the difference of a letter," replied the Gentile lady +good-humoredly. "Show us round your camp, my good girl."</p> + +<p>The mere fact that the speaker was in Lambert's company, let alone the +offensively patronizing tone in which she spoke, was enough to rouse the +gypsy girl's naturally hot temper. She retreated and swayed like a cat +making ready to spring, while her black eyes snapped fire in a most +unpleasant manner.</p> + +<p>But Miss Greeby was not to be frightened by withering glances, and +merely laughed aloud, showing her white teeth. Her rough merriment and +masculine looks showed Chaldea that, as a rival, she was not to be +feared, so the angry expression on the dark face changed to a wheedling +smile.</p> + +<p>"Avali! Avali! The Gorgios lady wants her fortune told."</p> + +<p>For the sake of diplomacy Miss Greeby nodded and fished in her pocket. +"I'll give you half a crown to tell it."</p> + +<p>"Not me—not me, dear lady. Mother Cockleshell is our great witch."</p> + +<p>"Take me to her then," replied the other, and rapidly gathered into her +brain all she could of Chaldea's appearance.</p> + +<p>Lambert had painted a very true picture of the girl, although to a +certain extent he had idealized her reckless beauty. Chaldea's looks had +been damaged and roughened by wind and rain, by long tramps, and by +glaring sunshine. Yet she was superlatively handsome with her warm and +swarthy skin, under which the scarlet blood circled freely. To an oval +face, a slightly hooked nose and two vermilion lips, rather full, she +added the glossy black eyes of the true Romany, peaked at the corners. +Her jetty hair descended smoothly from under a red handkerchief down to +her shoulders, and there, at the tips, became tangled and curling. Her +figure was magnificent, and she swayed and swung from the hips with an +easy grace, which reminded the onlookers of a panther's lithe movements. +And there was a good deal of the dangerous beast-of-prey beauty about +Chaldea, which was enhanced by her picturesque dress. This was ragged +and patched with all kinds of colored cloths subdued to mellow tints by +wear and weather. Also she jingled with coins and beads and barbaric +trinkets of all kinds. Her hands were perfectly formed, and so doubtless +were her feet, although these last were hidden by heavy laced-up boots. +On the whole, she was an extremely picturesque figure, quite comforting +to the artistic eye amidst the drab sameness of latterday civilization.</p> + +<p>"All the same, I suspect she is a sleeping volcano," whispered Miss +Greeby in her companion's ear as they followed the girl through the camp.</p> + +<p>"Scarcely sleeping," answered Lambert in the same tone. "She explodes on +the slightest provocation, and not without damaging results."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought to know. But if you play with volcanic fire you'll burn +more than your clever fingers."</p> + +<p>"Pooh! The girl is only a model."</p> + +<p>"Ha! Not much of the lay figure about her, anyway."</p> + +<p>Lambert, according to his custom, shrugged his shoulders and did not +seek to explain further. If Miss Greeby chose to turn her fancies into +facts, she was at liberty to do so. Besides, her attention was luckily +attracted by the vivid life of the vagrants which hummed and bustled +everywhere. The tribe was a comparatively large one, and—as Miss Greeby +learned later—consisted of Lees, Loves, Bucklands, Hernes, and others, +all mixed up together in one gypsy stew. The assemblage embraced many +clans, and not only were there pure gypsies, but even many diddikai, or +half-bloods, to be seen. Perhaps the gradually diminishing Romany clans +found it better to band together for mutual benefit than to remain +isolated units. But the camp certainly contained many elements, and +these, acting co-operatively, formed a large and somewhat reckless +community, which justified Garvington's alarm. A raid in the night by +one or two, or three, or more of these lean, wiry, dangerous-looking +outcasts was not to be despised. But it must be admitted that, in a +general way, law and order prevailed in the encampment.</p> + +<p>There were many caravans, painted in gay colors and hung round with +various goods, such as brushes and brooms, goat-skin rugs, and much +tinware, together with baskets of all sorts and sizes. The horses, which +drew these rainbow-hued vehicles, were pasturing on the outskirts of the +camp, hobbled for the most part. Interspersed among the travelling homes +stood tents great and small, wherein the genuine Romany had their abode, +but the autumn weather was so fine that most of the inmates preferred to +sleep in the moonshine. Of course, there were plenty of dogs quarrelling +over bones near various fires, or sleeping with one eye open in odd +corners, and everywhere tumbled and laughed and danced, brown-faced, +lithe-limbed children, who looked uncannily Eastern. And the men, +showing their white teeth in smiles, together with the fawning women, +young and handsome, or old and hideously ugly, seemed altogether alien +to the quiet, tame domestic English landscape. There was something +prehistoric about the scene, and everywhere lurked that sense of +dangerous primeval passions held in enforced check which might burst +forth on the very slightest provocation.</p> + +<p>"It's a migrating tribe of Aryans driven to new hunting grounds by +hunger or over-population," said Miss Greeby, for even her unromantic +nature was stirred by the unusual picturesqueness of the scene. "The +sight of these people and the reek of their fires make me feel like a +cave-woman. There is something magnificent about this brutal freedom."</p> + +<p>"Very sordid magnificence," replied Lambert, raising his shoulders. "But +I understand your feelings. On occasions we all have the nostalgia of +the primitive life at times, and delight to pass from ease to hardship."</p> + +<p>"Well, civilization isn't much catch, so far as I can see," argued his +companion. "It makes men weaklings."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not women," he answered, glancing sideways at her Amazonian +figure.</p> + +<p>"I agree with you. For some reason, men are going down while women are +going up, both physically and mentally. I wonder what the future of +civilized races will be."</p> + +<p>"Here is Mother Cockleshell. Best ask her."</p> + +<p>The trio had reached a small tent at the very end of the camp by this +time, snugly set up under a spreading oak and near the banks of a +babbling brook. Their progress had not been interrupted by any claims on +their attention or purses, for a wink from Chaldea had informed her +brother and sister gypsies that the Gentile lady had come to consult the +queen of the tribe. And, like Lord Burleigh's celebrated nod, Chaldea's +wink could convey volumes. At all events, Lambert and his companion were +unmolested, and arrived in due course before the royal palace. A +croaking voice announced that the queen was inside her Arab tent, and +she was crooning some Romany song. Chaldea did not open her mouth, but +simply snapped her fingers twice or thrice rapidly. The woman within +must have had marvellously sharp ears, for she immediately stopped her +incantation—the songs sounded like one—and stepped forth.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Miss Greeby, stepping back, "I am disappointed."</p> + +<p>She had every reason to be after the picturesqueness of the camp in +general, and Chaldea in particular, for Mother Cockleshell looked like a +threadbare pew-opener, or an almshouse widow who had seen better days. +Apparently she was very old, for her figure had shrivelled up into a +diminutive monkey form, and she looked as though a moderately high wind +could blow her about like a feather. Her face was brown and puckered and +lined in a most wonderful fashion. Where a wrinkle could be, there a +wrinkle was, and her nose and chin were of the true nutcracker order, as +a witch's should be. Only her eyes betrayed the powerful vitality that +still animated the tiny frame, for these were large and dark, and had in +them a piercing look which seemed to gaze not at any one, but through +and beyond. Her figure, dried like that of a mummy, was surprisingly +straight for one of her ancient years, and her profuse hair was scarcely +touched with the gray of age. Arrayed in a decent black dress, with a +decent black bonnet and a black woollen shawl, the old lady looked +intensely respectable. There was nothing of the picturesque vagrant +about her. Therefore Miss Greeby, and with every reason, was +disappointed, and when the queen of the woodland spoke she was still +more so, for Mother Cockleshell did not even interlard her English +speech with Romany words, as did Chaldea.</p> + +<p>"Good day to you, my lady, and to you, sir," said Mother Cockleshell in +a stronger and harsher voice than would have been expected from one of +her age and diminished stature. "I hope I sees you well," and she +dropped a curtsey, just like any village dame who knew her manners.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Miss Greeby again. "You don't look a bit like a gypsy queen."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lady, looks ain't everything. But I'm a true-bred Romany—a +Stanley of Devonshire. Gentilla is my name and the tent my home, and I +can tell fortunes as no one else on the road can."</p> + +<p>"Avali, and that is true," put in Chaldea eagerly. "Gentilla's a bori +chovihani."</p> + +<p>"The child means that I am a great witch, my lady," said the old dame +with another curtsey. "Though she's foolish to use Romany words to +Gentiles as don't understand the tongue which the dear Lord spoke in +Eden's garden, as the good Book tells us."</p> + +<p>"In what part of the Bible do you find that?" asked Lambert laughing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my sweet gentleman, it ain't for the likes of me to say things to +the likes of you," said Mother Cockleshell, getting out of her +difficulty very cleverly, "but the dear lady wants her fortune told, +don't she?"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you say dukkerin?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like them wicked words, sir," answered Mother Cockleshell +piously.</p> + +<p>"Wicked words," muttered Chaldea tossing her black locks. "And them true +Romany as was your milk tongue. No wonder the Gentiles don't fancy you a +true one of the road. If I were queen of—"</p> + +<p>A vicious little devil flashed out of the old woman's eyes, and her +respectable looks changed on the instant. "Tol yer chib, or I'll heat +the bones of you with the fires of Bongo Tem," she screamed furiously, +and in a mixture of her mother-tongue and English. "Ja pukenus, slut of +the gutter," she shook her fist, and Chaldea, with an insulting laugh, +moved away. "Bengis your see! Bengis your see! And that, my generous +lady," she added, turning round with a sudden resumption of her fawning +respectability, "means 'the devil in your heart,' which I spoke +witchly-like to the child. Ah, but she's a bad one."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby laughed outright. "This is more like the real thing."</p> + +<p>"Poor Chaldea," said Lambert. "You're too hard on her, mother."</p> + +<p>"And you, my sweet gentleman, ain't hard enough. She'll sell you, and +get Kara to put the knife between your ribs."</p> + +<p>"Why should he? I'm not in love with the girl."</p> + +<p>"The tree don't care for the ivy, but the ivy loves the tree," said +Mother Cockleshell darkly. "You're a good and kind gentleman, and I +don't want to see that slut pick your bones."</p> + +<p>"So I think," whispered Miss Greeby in his ear. "You play with fire."</p> + +<p>"Aye, my good lady," said Mother Cockleshell, catching the whisper—she +had the hearing of a cat. "With the fire of Bongo Tern, the which you +may call The Crooked Land," and she pointed significantly downward.</p> + +<p>"Hell, do you mean?" asked Miss Greeby in her bluff way.</p> + +<p>"The Crooked Land we Romany calls it," insisted the old woman. "And the +child will go there, for her witchly doings."</p> + +<p>"She's too good-looking to lose as a model, at all events," said +Lambert, hitching his shoulders. "I shall leave you to have your fortune +told, Clara, and follow Chaldea to pacify her."</p> + +<p>As he went toward the centre of the camp, Miss Greeby took a hesitating +step as though to follow him. In her opinion Chaldea was much too +good-looking, let alone clever, for Lambert to deal with alone. Gentilla +Stanley saw the look on the hard face and the softening of the hard eyes +as the cheeks grew rosy red. From this emotion she drew her conclusions, +and she chuckled to think of how true a fortune she could tell the +visitor on these premises. Mother Cockleshell's fortune-telling was not +entirely fraudulent, but when her clairvoyance was not in working order +she made use of character-reading with good results.</p> + +<p>"Won't the Gorgios lady have her fortune told?" she asked in wheedling +tones. "Cross Mother Cockleshell's hand with silver and she'll tell the +coming years truly."</p> + +<p>"Why do they call you Mother Cockleshell?" demanded Miss Greeby, waiving +the question of fortune-telling for the time being.</p> + +<p>"Bless your wisdom, it was them fishermen at Grimsby who did so. I +walked the beaches for years and told charms and gave witchly spells for +fine weather. Gentilla Stanley am I called, but Mother Cockleshell was +their name for me. But the fortune, my tender Gentile—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want it told," interrupted Miss Greeby abruptly. "I don't +believe in such rubbish."</p> + +<p>"There is rubbish and there is truth," said the ancient gypsy darkly. +"And them as knows can see what's hidden from others."</p> + +<p>"Well, you will have an opportunity this afternoon of making money. Some +fools from The Manor are coming to consult you."</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell nodded and grinned to show a set of beautifully +preserved teeth. "I know The Manor," said she, rubbing her slim hands. +"And Lord Garvington, with his pretty sister."</p> + +<p>"Lady Agnes Pine?" asked Miss Greeby. "How do you know, her?"</p> + +<p>"I've been in these parts before, my gentle lady, and she was good to me +in a sick way. I would have died in the hard winter if she hadn't fed me +and nursed me, so to speak. I shall love to see her again. To dick a +puro pal is as commoben as a aushti habben, the which, my precious +angel, is true Romany for the Gentile saying, 'To see an old friend is +as good as a fine dinner.' Avali! Avali!" she nodded smilingly. "I shall +be glad to see her, though here I use Romany words to you as doesn't +understand the lingo."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby was not at all pleased to hear Lady Agnes praised; as, +knowing that Lambert had loved her, and probably loved her still, she +was jealous enough to wish her all possible harm. However, it was not +diplomatic to reveal her true feelings to Mother Cockleshell, lest the +old gypsy should repeat her words to Lady Agnes, so she turned the +conversation by pointing to a snow-white cat of great size, who stepped +daintily out of the tent. "I should think, as a witch, your cat ought to +be black," said Miss Greeby. Mother Cockleshell screeched like a +night-owl and hastily pattered some gypsy spell to avert evil. "Why, the +old devil is black," she cried. "And why should I have him in my house +to work evil? This is my white ghost." Her words were accompanied by a +gentle stroking of the cat. "And good is what she brings to my +roof-tree. But I don't eat from white dishes, or drink from white mugs. +No! No! That would be too witchly."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby mused. "I have heard something about these gypsy +superstitions before," she remarked meditatively.</p> + +<p>"Avo! Avo! They are in a book written by a great Romany Rye. Leland is +the name of that rye, a gypsy Lee with Gentile land. He added land to +the lea as he was told by one of our people. Such a nice gentleman, +kind, and free of his money and clever beyond tellings, as I always +says. Many a time has he sat pal-like with me, and 'Gentilla,' says he, +'your're a bori chovihani'; and that, my generous lady, is the gentle +language for a great witch."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea said that you were that," observed Miss Greeby carelessly.</p> + +<p>"The child speaks truly. Come, cross my hand, sweet lady."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby passed along half a crown. "I only desire to know one +thing," she said, offering her palm. "Shall I get my wish?"</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell peered into the hands, although she had already made +up her mind what to say. Her faculties, sharpened by years of chicanery, +told her from the look which Miss Greeby had given when Lambert followed +Chaldea, that a desire to marry the man was the wish in question. And +seeing how indifferent Lambert was in the presence of the tall lady, +Mother Cockleshell had no difficulty in adjusting the situation in her +own artful mind. "No, my lady," she said, casting away the hand with +quite a dramatic gesture. "You will never gain your wish."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby looked angry. "Bah! Your fortune-telling is all rubbish, as +I have always thought," and she moved away.</p> + +<p>"Tell me that in six months," screamed the old woman after her.</p> + +<p>"Why six months?" demanded the other, pausing.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's a dark saying," scoffed the gypsy. "Call it seven, my +hopeful-for-what-you-won't-get, like the cat after the cream, for +seven's a sacred number, and the spell is set."</p> + +<p>"Gypsy jargon, gypsy lies," muttered Miss Greeby, tossing her ruddy +mane. "I don't believe a word. Tell me—"</p> + +<p>"There's no time to say more," interrupted Mother Cockleshell rudely, +for, having secured her money, she did not think it worth while to be +polite, especially in the face of her visitor's scepticism. "One of our +tribe—aye, and he's a great Romany for sure—is coming to camp with us. +Each minute he may come, and I go to get ready a stew of hedgehog, for +Gentile words I must use to you, who are a Gorgio. And so good day to +you, my lady," ended the old hag, again becoming the truly respectable +pew-opener. Then she dropped a curtsey—whether ironical or not, Miss +Greeby could not tell—and disappeared into the tent, followed by the +white cat, who haunted her footsteps like the ghost she declared it to +be.</p> + +<p>Clearly there was nothing more to be learned from Mother Cockleshell, +who, in the face of her visitor's doubts, had become hostile, so Miss +Greeby, dismissing the whole episode as over and done with, turned her +attention toward finding Lambert. With her bludgeon under her arm and +her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she stalked through the camp in +quite a masculine fashion, not vouchsafing a single reply to the +greetings which the gypsies gave her. Shortly she saw the artist +chatting with Chaldea at the beginning of the path which led to his +cottage. Beside them, on the grass, squatted a queer figure.</p> + +<p>It was that of a little man, very much under-sized, with a hunch back +and a large, dark, melancholy face covered profusely with black hair. He +wore corduroy trousers and clumsy boots—his feet and hands were +enormous—together with a green coat and a red handkerchief which was +carelessly twisted round his hairy throat. On his tangled +locks—distressingly shaggy and unkempt—he wore no hat, and he looked +like a brownie, grotesque, though somewhat sad. But even more did he +resemble an ape—or say the missing link—and only his eyes seemed +human. These were large, dark and brilliant, sparkling like jewels under +his elf-locks. He sat cross-legged on the sward and hugged a fiddle, as +though he were nursing a baby. And, no doubt, he was as attached to his +instrument as any mother could be to her child. It was not difficult for +Miss Greeby to guess that this weird, hairy dwarf was the Servian gypsy +Kara, of whom Lambert had spoken. She took advantage of the knowledge to +be disagreeable to the girl.</p> + +<p>"Is this your husband?" asked Miss Greeby amiably.</p> + +<p>Chaldea's eyes flashed and her cheeks grew crimson. "Not at all," she +said contemptuously. "I have no rom."</p> + +<p>"Ah, your are not married?"</p> + +<p>"No," declared Chaldea curtly, and shot a swift glance at Lambert.</p> + +<p>"She is waiting for the fairy prince," said that young gentleman +smiling. "And he is coming to this camp almost immediately."</p> + +<p>"Ishmael Hearne is coming," replied the gypsy. "But he is no rom of +mine, and never will be."</p> + +<p>"Who is he, then?" asked Lambert carelessly.</p> + +<p>"One of the great Romany."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby remembered that Mother Cockleshell had also spoken of the +expected arrival at the camp in these terms. "A kind of king?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>Chaldea laughed satirically. "Yes; a kind of king," she assented; then +turned her back rudely on the speaker and addressed Lambert: "I can't +come, rye. Ishmael will want to see me. I must wait."</p> + +<p>"What a nuisance," said Lambert, looking annoyed. "Fancy, Clara. I have +an idea of painting these two as Beauty and the Beast, or perhaps as +Esmeralda and Quasimodo. I want them to come to the cottage and sit now, +but they will wait for this confounded Ishmael."</p> + +<p>"We can come to-morrow," put in Chaldea quickly. "This afternoon I must +dance for Ishmael, and Kara must play."</p> + +<p>"Ishmael will meet with a fine reception," said Miss Greeby, and then, +anxious to have a private conversation with Chaldea so as to disabuse +her mind of any idea she may have entertained of marrying Lambert, she +added, "I think I shall stay and see him."</p> + +<p>"In that case, I shall return to my cottage," replied Lambert, +sauntering up the pathway, which was strewn with withered leaves.</p> + +<p>"When are you coming to The Manor?" called Miss Greeby after him.</p> + +<p>"Never! I am too busy," he replied over his shoulder and disappeared +into the wood. This departure may seem discourteous, but then Miss +Greeby liked to be treated like a comrade and without ceremony. That +is, she liked it so far as other men were concerned, but not as regards +Lambert. She loved him too much to approve of his careless leave-taking, +and therefore she frowned darkly, as she turned her attention to +Chaldea.</p> + +<p>The girl saw that Miss Greeby was annoyed, and guessed the cause of her +annoyance. The idea that this red-haired and gaunt woman should love the +handsome Gorgio was so ludicrous in Chaldea's eyes that she laughed in +an ironical fashion. Miss Greeby turned on her sharply, but before she +could speak there was a sound of many voices raised in welcome. +"Sarishan pal! Sarishan ba!" cried the voices, and Chaldea started.</p> + +<p>"Ishmael!" she said, and ran toward the camp, followed leisurely by +Kara.</p> + +<p>Anxious to see the great Romany, whose arrival caused all this +commotion, Miss Greeby plunged into the crowd of excited vagrants. These +surrounded a black horse, on which sat a slim, dark-faced man of the +true Romany breed. Miss Greeby stared at him and blinked her eyes, as +though she could not believe what they beheld, while the man waved his +hand and responded to the many greetings in gypsy language. His eyes +finally met her own as she stood on the outskirts of the crowd, and he +started. Then she knew. "Sir Hubert Pine," said Miss Greeby, still +staring. "Sir Hubert Pine!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV" />CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>SECRETS.</h3> + + +<p>The scouting crowd apparently did not catch the name, so busy were one +and all in welcoming the newcomer. But the man on the horse saw Miss +Greeby's startled look, and noticed that her lips were moving. In a +moment he threw himself off the animal and elbowed his way roughly +through the throng.</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert," began Miss Greeby, only to be cut short hastily.</p> + +<p>"Don't give me away," interrupted Pine, who here was known as Ishmael +Hearne. "Wait till I settle things, and then we can converse privately."</p> + +<p>"All right," answered the lady, nodding, and gripped her bludgeon +crosswise behind her back with two hands. She was so surprised at the +sight of the millionaire in the wood, that she could scarcely speak.</p> + +<p>Satisfied that she grasped the situation, Pine turned to his friends and +spoke at length in fluent Romany. He informed them that he had some +business to transact with the Gentile lady who had come to the camp for +that purpose, and would leave them for half an hour. The man evidently +was such a favorite that black looks were cast on Miss Greeby for +depriving the Romany of his society. But Pine paid no attention to these +signs of discontent. He finished his speech, and then pushed his way +again toward the lady who, awkwardly for him, was acquainted with his +true position as a millionaire. In a hurried whisper he asked Miss +Greeby to follow him, and led the way into the heart of the wood. +Apparently he knew it very well, and knew also where to seek solitude +for the private conversation he desired, for he skirted the central +glade where Lambert's cottage was placed, and finally guided his +companion to a secluded dell, far removed from the camp of his brethren. +Here he sat down on a mossy stone, and stared with piercing black eyes +at Miss Greeby.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?" he demanded imperiously.</p> + +<p>"Just the question I was about to put to you," said Miss Greeby amiably. +She could afford to be amiable, for she felt that she was the mistress +of the situation. Pine evidently saw this, for he frowned.</p> + +<p>"You must have guessed long ago that I was a gypsy," he snapped +restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I didn't, nor, I should think, did any one else. I thought you +had nigger blood in you, and I have heard people say that you came from +the West Indies. But what does it matter if you are a gypsy? There is no +disgrace in being one."</p> + +<p>"No disgrace, certainly," rejoined the millionaire, leaning forward and +linking his hands together, while he stared at the ground. "I am proud +of having the gentle Romany blood. All the same I prefer the West Indian +legend, for I don't want any of my civilized friends to know that I am +Ishmael Hearne, born and bred in a tent."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's natural, Pine. What would Garvington say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, curse Garvington!"</p> + +<p>"Curse the whole family by all means," retorted Miss Greeby coolly.</p> + +<p>Pine looked up savagely, "I except my wife."</p> + +<p>"Naturally. You always were uxorious."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Pine gloomily, "I'm a fool where Agnes is concerned."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby quite agreed with this statement, but did not think it worth +while to indorse so obvious a remark. She sat down in her turn, and +taking Lambert's cigarette case, which she had retained by accident, out +of her pocket, she prepared to smoke. The two were entirely alone in the +fairy dell, and the trees which girdled it were glorious with vivid +autumnal tints. A gentle breeze sighing through the wood, shook down +yew, crisp leaves on the woman's head, so that she looked like Danae in +a shower of gold. Pine gazed heavily at the ground and coughed +violently. Miss Greeby knew that cough, and a medical friend of hers +had told her several times that Sir Hubert was a very consumptive +individual. He certainly looked ill, and apparently had not long to +live. And if he died, Lady Agnes, inheriting his wealth, would be more +desirable as a wife than ever. And Miss Greeby, guessing whose wife she +would be, swore inwardly that the present husband should look so +delicate. But she showed no sign of her perturbations, but lighted her +cigarette with a steady hand and smoked quietly. She always prided +herself on her nerve.</p> + +<p>The millionaire was tall and lean, with a sinewy frame, and an oval, +olive-complexioned face. It was clean-shaven, and with his aquiline +nose, his thin lips, and brilliant black eyes, which resembled those of +Kara, he looked like a long-descended Hindoo prince. The Eastern blood +of the Romany showed in his narrow feet and slim brown hands, and there +was a wild roving look about him, which Miss Greeby had not perceived in +London.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's the dress," she said aloud, and eyed Pine critically.</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Miss Greeby?" he asked, looking up in a sharp, +startled manner, and again coughing in a markedly consumptive way.</p> + +<p>"The cowl makes the monk in your case," replied the woman quietly. "Your +corduroy breeches and velveteen coat, with that colored shirt, and the +yellow handkerchief round your neck, seem to suit you better than did +the frock coats and evening dress I have seen you in. You did look like +a nigger of sorts when in those clothes; now I can tell you are a gypsy +with half an eye."</p> + +<p>"That is because you heard me called Ishmael and saw me among my kith +and kin," said the man with a tired smile. "Don't tell Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Why should I? It's none of my business if you chose to masquerade as a +gypsy."</p> + +<p>"I masquerade as Sir Hubert Pine," retorted the millionaire, slipping +off the stone to sprawl full-length on the grass. "I am truly and really +one of the lot in the camp yonder."</p> + +<p>"Do they know you by your Gentile name?"</p> + +<p>Pine laughed. "You are picking up the gypsy lingo, Miss Greeby. No. +Every one on the road takes me for what I am, Ishmael Hearne, and my +friends in the civilized world think I am Sir Hubert Pine, a millionaire +with colored blood in his veins."</p> + +<p>"How do you come to have a double personality and live a double life?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is easily explained, and since you have found me out it is +just as well that I should explain, so that you may keep my secret, at +all events from my wife, as she would be horrified to think that she had +married a gypsy. You promise?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. I shall say nothing. But perhaps she would prefer to know +that she had married a gypsy rather than a nigger."</p> + +<p>"What polite things you say," said Pine sarcastically. "However, I can't +afford to quarrel with you. As you are rich, I can't even bribe you to +silence, so I must rely on your honor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have some," Miss Greeby assured him lightly.</p> + +<p>"When it suits you," he retorted doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"It does on this occasion."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you that when you have related your story."</p> + +<p>"There is really none to tell. I was born and brought up on the road, +and thinking I was wasting my life I left my people and entered +civilization. In London I worked as a clerk, and being clever I soon +made money. I got hold of a man who invented penny toys, and saw the +possibilities of making a fortune. I really didn't, but I collected +enough money to dabble in stocks and shares. The South African boom was +on, and I made a thousand. Other speculations created more than a +million out of my thousand, and now I have over two millions, honestly +made."</p> + +<p>"Honestly?" queried Miss Greeby significantly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I assure you, honestly. We gypsies are cleverer than you Gentiles, +and we have the same money-making faculties as the Jews have. If my +people were not so fond of the vagrant life they would soon become a +power in the money markets of the world. But, save in the case of +myself, we leave all such grubbing to the Jews. I did grub, and my +reward is that I have accumulated a fortune in a remarkably short space +of time. I have land and houses, and excellent investments, and a title, +which," he added sarcastically, "a grateful Government bestowed on me +for using my money properly."</p> + +<p>"You bought the title by helping the political party you belonged to," +said Miss Greeby with a shrug. "There was quite a talk about it."</p> + +<p>"So there was. As if I cared for talk. However, that is my story."</p> + +<p>"Not all of it. You are supposed to be in Paris, and—"</p> + +<p>"And you find me here," interrupted Pine with a faint smile. "Well you +see, being a gypsy, I can't always endure that under-the-roof life you +Gentiles live. I must have a spell of the open road occasionally. And, +moreover, as my doctor tells me that I have phthisis, and that I should +live as much as possible in the open air, I kill two birds with one +stone, as the saying is. My health benefits by my taking up the old +Romany wandering, and I gratify my nostalgia for the tent and the wild. +You understand, you und—" His speech was interrupted by a fresh fit of +coughing.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem to do you much good this gypsying," said Miss Greeby +with a swift look, for his life was of importance to her plans. "You +look pretty rocky I can tell you, Pine. And if you die your wife will be +free to—" The man sat up and took away from his mouth a handkerchief +spotted with blood. His eyes glittered, and he showed his white teeth. +"My wife will be free to what?" he demanded viciously, and the same +devil that had lurked in Mother Cockleshell's eye, now showed +conspicuously in his.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby had no pity on his manifest distress and visible wrath, but +answered obliquely: "You know that she was almost engaged to her cousin +before you married her," she hinted pointedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, d—— him," said Pine with a groan, and rolled over to +clutch at the grass in a vicious manner. "But he's not at The Manor now?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Agnes doesn't speak of him?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Pine drew a deep breath and rose slowly to his feet, with a satisfied +nod.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that. She's a good woman is Agnes, and would never +encourage him in any way. She knows what is due to me. I trust her."</p> + +<p>"Do you? When your secretary is also stopping at The Manor?"</p> + +<p>"Silver!" Pine laughed awkwardly, and kicked at a tuft of moss. "Well I +did ask him to keep an eye on her, although there is really no occasion. +Silver owes me a great deal, since I took him out of the gutter. If +Lambert worried my wife, Silver would let me know, and then—"</p> + +<p>"And then?" asked Miss Greeby hastily.</p> + +<p>The man clenched his fists and his face grew stormy, as his blood +untamed by civilization surged redly to the surface. "I'd twist his +neck, I'd smash his skull, I'd—I'd—I'd—oh, don't ask me what I'd do."</p> + +<p>"I should keep my temper if I were you," Miss Greeby warned him, and +alarmed by the tempest she had provoked. She had no wish for the man she +loved to come into contact with this savage, veneered by civilization. +Yet Lambert was in the neighborhood, and almost within a stone's throw +of the husband who was so jealous of him. "Keep your temper," repeated +Miss Greeby.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything else you would like me to do?" raged Pine fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Leave this place if you wish to keep the secret of your birth from +your wife. Lady Garvington and Mrs. Belgrove, and a lot of people from +The Manor, are coming to the camp to get their fortunes told. You are +sure to be spotted."</p> + +<p>"I shall keep myself out of sight," said Pine sullenly and suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Some of your gypsy friends may let the cat out of the bag."</p> + +<p>"Not one of them knows there is a cat in the bag. I am Ishmael Hearne to +them, and nothing else. But I shan't stay here long."</p> + +<p>"I wonder you came at all, seeing that your wife is with her brother."</p> + +<p>"In the daring of my coming lies my safety," said Pine tartly. "I know +what I am doing. As to Lambert, if he thinks to marry my wife when I am +dead he is mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you won't die, for my sake!"</p> + +<p>"Why for your sake?" asked Pine sharply.</p> + +<p>"Because I love Lambert and I want to marry him."</p> + +<p>"Marry him," said the millionaire hoarsely, "and I'll give you thousands +of pounds. Oh! I forgot that you have a large income. But marry him, +marry him, Miss Greeby. I shall help you all I can."</p> + +<p>"I can do without assistance," said the woman coolly. "All I ask you to +do is to refrain from fighting with Lambert."</p> + +<p>"What?" Pine's face became lowering again. "Is he at The Manor? You +said—"</p> + +<p>"I know what I said. He is not at The Manor, but he is stopping in the +cottage a stone's throw from here."</p> + +<p>Pine breathed hard, and again had a spasm of coughing. "What's he doing?"</p> + +<p>"Painting pictures."</p> + +<p>"He has not been near The Manor?"</p> + +<p>"No. And what is more, he told me to-day that he did not intend to go +near the house. I don't think you need be afraid, Pine. Lambert is a man +of honor, and I hope to get him to be my husband."</p> + +<p>"He shall never be my wife's husband," said the millionaire between his +teeth and scowling heavily. "I know that I shan't live to anything like +three score and ten. Your infernal hot-house civilization has killed me. +But if Lambert thinks to marry my widow he shall do so in the face of +Garvington's opposition, and will find Agnes a pauper."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean exactly?" Miss Greeby flung away the stump of her +cigarette and rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>Pine wiped his brow and breathed heavily. "I mean that I have left Agnes +my money, only on condition that she does <i>not</i> marry Lambert. She can +marry any one else she has a mind to. I except her cousin."</p> + +<p>"Because she loves him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and because he loves her, d—n him."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't," cried Miss Greeby, lying fluently, and heartily wishing +that her lie could be a truth. "He loves me, and I intend to marry him. +Now you can understand what I meant when I declared that I had honor +enough to keep your secret. Lambert is my honor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then I believe in your honor," sneered Pine cynically. "It is a +selfish quality in this case, which can only be gratified by preserving +silence. If Agnes knew that I was a true Romany tramp, she might run +away with Lambert, and as you want him to be your husband, it is to your +interest to hold your tongue. Thank you for nothing, Miss Greeby."</p> + +<p>"I tell you Lambert loves me," cried the woman doggedly, trying to +persuade her heart that she spoke truly. "And whether you leave your +money to your wife, or to any one else, makes no manner of difference."</p> + +<p>"I think otherwise," he retorted. "And it is just as well to be on the +safe side. If my widow marries Lambert, she loses my millions, and they +go to—" He checked himself abruptly. "Never mind who gets them. It is a +person in whom you can take no manner of interest."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby pushed the point of her bludgeon into the spongy ground, and +looked thoughtful. "If Lambert loves Agnes still, which I don't +believe," she observed, after a pause, "he would marry her even if she +hadn't a shilling. Your will excluding him as her second husband is +merely the twisting of a rope of sand, Pine."</p> + +<p>"You forget," said the man quickly, "that I declared also, he would have +to marry her in the face of Garvington's opposition."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you guess? Garvington only allowed me to marry his sister because +I am a wealthy man. I absolutely bought my wife by helping him, and she +gave herself to me without love to save the family name from disgrace. +She is a good woman, is Agnes, and always places duty before +inclination. Marriage with her pauper cousin meant practically the +social extinction of the Lambert family, and nothing would have remained +but the title. Therefore she married me, and I felt mean at the time in +accepting the sacrifice. But I was so deeply in love with her that I did +so. I love her still, and I am mean enough still to be jealous of this +cousin. She shall never marry him, and I know that Garvington will +appeal to his sister's strong desire to save the family once more; so +that she may not be foolish enough to lose the money. And two millions, +more or less," ended Pine cynically, "is too large a sum to pay for a +second husband."</p> + +<p>"Does Agnes know these conditions?"</p> + +<p>"No. Nor do I intend that she should know. You hold your tongue."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby pulled on her heavy gloves and nodded. "I told you that I +had some notion of honor. Will you let Lambert know that you are in this +neighborhood?"</p> + +<p>"No. There is no need. I am stopping here only for a time to see a +certain person. Silver will look after Agnes, and is coming to the camp +to report upon what he has observed."</p> + +<p>"Silver then knows that you are Ishmael Hearne?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He knows all my secrets, and I can trust him thoroughly, since he +owes everything to me."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby laughed scornfully. "That a man of your age and experience +should believe in gratitude. Well, it's no business of mine. You may be +certain that for my own purpose I shall hold my tongue and shall keep +Lambert from seeking your wife. Not that he loves her," she added +hastily, as Pine's brows again drew together. "But she loves him, and +may use her arts—"</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare to speak of arts in connection with my wife," broke in +the man roughly. "She is no coquette, and I trust her—"</p> + +<p>"So long as Silver looks after her," finished Miss Greeby +contemptuously. "What chivalrous confidence. Well, I must be going. Any +message to your—"</p> + +<p>"No! No! No!" broke in Pine once more. "She is not to know that I am +here, or anything about my true position and name. You promised, and you +will keep your promise. But there, I know that you will, as +self-interest will make you."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you talk common sense. It is a pity you don't bring it to bear +in the case of Silver, whom you trust because you have benefited him. +Good-day, you very unsophisticated person. I shall see you again—"</p> + +<p>"In London as Hubert Pine," said the millionaire abruptly, and Miss +Greeby, with a good-humored shrug, marched away, swinging her stick and +whistling gayly. She was very well satisfied with the knowledge she had +obtained, as the chances were that it would prove useful should Lambert +still hanker after the unattainable woman. Miss Greeby had lulled Pine's +suspicions regarding the young man's love for Agnes, but she knew in her +heart that she had only done so by telling a pack of miserable lies. +Now, as she walked back to The Manor, she reflected that by using her +secret information dexterously, she might improve such falsehood into +tolerable truth.</p> + +<p>Pine flung himself down again when she departed, and coughed in his +usual violent manner. His throat and lungs ached, and his brow was wet +with perspiration. With his elbows on his knees and his face between his +hands, he sat miserably thinking over his troubles. There was no chance +of his living more than a few years, as the best doctors in Europe and +England had given him up, and when he was placed below ground, the +chances were that Agnes would marry his rival. He had made things as +safe as was possible against such a contingency, but who knew if her +love for Lambert might not make her willing to surrender the millions. +"Unless Garvington can manage to arouse her family pride," groaned Pine +drearily. "She sacrificed herself before for that, and perhaps she will +do so again. But who knows?" And he could find no answer to this +question, since it is impossible for any man to say what a woman will do +where her deepest emotions are concerned.</p> + +<p>A touch on Pine's shoulder made him leap to his feet with the alertness +of a wild animal on the lookout for danger. By his side stood Chaldea, +and her eyes glittered, as she came to the point of explanation without +any preamble. The girl was painfully direct. "I have heard every word," +she said triumphantly. "And I know what you are, brother."</p> + +<p>"Why did you come here?" demanded Pine sharply, and frowning.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to hear what a Romany had to do with a Gorgio lady, brother. +And what do I hear. Why, that you dwell in the Gentile houses, and take +a Gentile name, and cheat in a Gentile manner, and have wed with a +Gentile romi. Speaking Romanly, brother, it is not well."</p> + +<p>"It is as I choose, sister," replied Pine quietly, for since Chaldea had +got the better of him, it was useless to quarrel with her. "And from +what I do good will come to our people."</p> + +<p>Chaldea laughed, and blew from her fingers a feather, carelessly picked +up while in the thicket which had concealed her eavesdropping. "For +that, I care that," said she, pointing to the floating feather slowly +settling. "I looks to myself and to my love, brother."</p> + +<p>"Hey?" Pine raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"It's a Gorgio my heart is set on," pursued Chaldea steadfastly. "A +regular Romany Rye, brother. Do you think Lambert is a good name?"</p> + +<p>"It's the name of the devil, sister," cried Pine hastily.</p> + +<p>"The very devil I love. To me sweet, as to you sour. And speaking +Romanly, brother, I want him to be my rom in the Gentile fashion, as you +have a romi in your Gorgious lady."</p> + +<p>"What will Kara say?" said Pine, and his eyes flashed, for the idea of +getting rid of Lambert in this way appealed to him. The girl was +beautiful, and with her added cleverness she might be able to gain her +ends, and these accomplished, would certainly place a barrier between +Agnes and her cousin, since the woman would never forgive the man for +preferring the girl.</p> + +<p>"Kara plays on the fiddle, but not on my heart-strings," said Chaldea in +a cool manner, and watched Pine wickedly. "You'd better help me, +brother, if you don't want that Gorgious romi of yours to pad the hoof +with the rye."</p> + +<p>The blood rushed to Pine's dark cheeks. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"No harm to my rye and I tell you, brother. Don't use the knife."</p> + +<p>"That I will not do, if a wedding-ring from him to you will do as well."</p> + +<p>"It will do, brother," said Chaldea calmly. "My rye doesn't love me yet, +but he will, when I get him away from the Gentile lady's spells. They +draw him, brother, they draw him."</p> + +<p>"Where do they draw him to?" demanded Pine, his voice thick with +passion.</p> + +<p>"To the Gorgious house of the baro rai, the brother of your romi. Like +an owl does he go after dusk to watch the nest."</p> + +<p>"Owl," muttered Pine savagely. "Cuckoo, rather. Prove this, my sister, +and I help you to gain the love you desire."</p> + +<p>"It's a bargain, brother"—she held out her hand inquiringly—"but no +knife."</p> + +<p>Pine shook hands. "It's a bargain, sister. Your wedding-ring will part +them as surely as any knife. Tell me more!" And Chaldea in whispers told +him all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V" />CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN AND THE MAN.</h3> + + +<p>Quite unaware that Destiny, that tireless spinner, was weaving sinister +red threads of hate and love into the web of his life, Lambert continued +to live quietly in his woodland retreat. In a somewhat misanthropic +frame of mind he had retired to this hermitage, after the failure of his +love affair, since, lacking the society of Agnes, there was nothing left +for him to desire. From a garden of roses, the world became a sandy +desert, and denied the sole gift of fortune, which would have made him +completely happy, the disconsolate lover foreswore society for solitude. +As some seek religion, so Lambert hoped by seeking Nature's breast to +assuage the pains of his sore heart. But although the great Mother could +do so much, she could not do all, and the young man still felt restless +and weary. Hard work helped him more than a little, but he had his dark +hours during those intervals when hand and brain were too weary to +create pictures.</p> + +<p>In one way he blamed Agnes, because she had married for money; in +another way he did not blame her, because that same money had been +necessary to support the falling fortunes of the noble family to which +Lambert belonged. An ordinary person would not have understood this, and +would have seen in the mercenary marriage simply a greedy grasping after +the loaves and fishes. But Lambert, coming at the end of a long line of +lordly ancestors, considered that both he and his cousin owed something +to those of the past who had built up the family. Thus his pride told +him that Agnes had acted rightly in taking Pine as her husband, while +his love cried aloud that the sacrifice was too hard upon their +individual selves. He was a Lambert, but he was also a human being, and +the two emotions of love and pride strove mightily against one another. +Although quite three years had elapsed since the victim had been offered +at the altar—and a willing victim to the family fetish—the struggle +was still going on. And because of its stress and strain, Lambert +withdrew from society, so that he might see as little as possible of the +woman he loved. They had met, they had talked, they had looked, in a +conventionally light-hearted way, but both were relieved when +circumstances parted them. The strain was too great.</p> + +<p>Pine arranged the circumstances, for hearing here, there, and +everywhere, that his wife had been practically engaged to her cousin +before he became her husband, he looked with jealous eyes upon their +chance meetings. Neither to Agnes nor Lambert did he say a single word, +since he had no reason to utter it, so scrupulously correct was their +behavior, but his eyes were sufficiently eloquent to reveal his +jealousy. He took his wife for an American tour, and when he brought her +back to London, Lambert, knowing only too truly the reason for that +tour, had gone away in his turn to shoot big game in Africa. An attack +of malaria contracted in the Congo marshes had driven him back to +England, and it was then that he had begged Garvington to give him The +Abbot's Wood Cottage. For six months he had been shut up here, +occasionally going to London, or for a week's walking tour, and during +that time he had done his best to banish the image of Agnes from his +heart. Doubtless she was attempting the same conquest, for she never +even wrote to him. And now these two sorely-tried people were within +speaking distance of one another, and strange results might be looked +for unless honor held them sufficiently true. Seeing that the cottage +was near the family seat, and that Agnes sooner or later would arrive to +stay with her brother and sister-in-law, Lambert might have expected +that such a situation would come about in the natural course of things. +Perhaps he did, and perhaps—as some busybodies said—he took the +cottage for that purpose; but so far, he had refrained from seeking the +society of Pine's wife. He would not even dine at The Manor, nor would +he join the shooting-party, although Garvington, with a singular +blindness, urged him to do so. While daylight lasted, the artist painted +desperately hard, and after dark wandered round the lanes and roads and +across the fields, haunting almost unconsciously the Manor Park, if only +to see in moonlight and twilight the casket which held the rich jewel he +had lost. This was foolish, and Lambert acknowledged that it was +foolish, but at the same time he added inwardly that he was a man and +not an angel, a sinner and not a saint, so that there were limits, etc., +etc., etc., using impossible arguments to quieten a lively conscience +that did not approve of this dangerous philandering.</p> + +<p>The visit of Miss Greeby awoke him positively to a sense of danger, for +if she talked—and talk she did—other people would talk also. Lambert +asked himself if it would be better to visit The Manor and behave like +a man who has got over his passion, or to leave the cottage and betake +himself to London. While turning over this problem in his mind, he +painted feverishly, and for three days after Miss Greeby had come to +stir up muddy water, he remained as much as possible in his studio. +Chaldea visited him, as usual, to be painted, and brought Kara with his +green coat and beloved violin and hairy looks. The girl chatted, Kara +played, and Lambert painted, and all three pretended to be very happy +and careless. This was merely on the surface, however, for the artist +was desperately wretched, because the other half of himself was married +to another man, while Chaldea, getting neither love-look nor caress, +felt savagely discontented. As for Kara, he had long since loved +Chaldea, who treated him like a dog, and he could not help seeing that +she adored the Gentile artist—a knowledge which almost broke his heart. +But it was some satisfaction for him to note that Lambert would have +nothing to do with the siren, and that she could not charm him to her +feet, sang she ever so tenderly. It was an unhappy trio at the best.</p> + +<p>The gypsies usually came in the morning, since the light was then better +for artistic purposes, but they always departed at one o'clock, so that +Lambert had the afternoon to himself. Chaldea would fain have lingered +in order to charm the man she loved into subjection; but he never gave +her the least encouragement, so she was obliged to stay away. All the +same, she often haunted the woods near the cottage, and when Lambert +came out for a stroll, which he usually did when it became too dark to +paint, he was bound to run across her. Since he had not the slightest +desire to make love to her, and did not fathom the depth of her passion, +he never suspected that she purposely contrived the meetings which he +looked upon as accidental.</p> + +<p>Since Chaldea hung round the house, like a moth round a candle, she saw +every one who came and went from the woodland cottage. On the afternoon +of the third day since Pine's arrival at the camp in the character of +Ishmael Hearne, the gypsy saw Lady Agnes coming through the wood. +Chaldea knew her at once, having often seen her when she had come to +visit Mother Cockleshell a few months previously. With characteristic +cunning, the girl dived into the undergrowth, and there remained +concealed for the purpose of spying on the Gentile lady whom she +regarded as a rival. Immediately, Chaldea guessed that Lady Agnes was +on her way to the cottage, and, as Lambert was alone as usual for the +afternoon, the two would probably have a private conversation. The girl +swiftly determined to listen, so that she might learn exactly how +matters stood between them. It might be that she would discover +something which Pine—Chaldea now thought of him as Pine—might like to +know. So having arranged this in her own unscrupulous mind, the girl +behind a juniper bush jealously watched the unsuspecting lady. What she +saw did not please her overmuch, as Lady Agnes was rather too beautiful +for her unknown rival's peace of mind.</p> + +<p>Sir Hubert's wife was not really the exquisitely lovely creature Chaldea +took her to be, but her fair skin and brown hair were such a contrast to +the gypsy's swarthy face and raven locks, that she really looked like an +angel of light compared with the dark child of Nature. Agnes was tall +and slender, and moved with a great air of dignity and calm +self-possession, and this to the uncontrolled Chaldea was also a matter +of offence. She inwardly tried to belittle her rival by thinking what a +milk-and-water useless person she was, but the steady and resolute look +in the lady's brown eyes gave the lie to this mental assertion. Lady +Agnes had an air of breeding and command, which, with all her beauty, +Chaldea lacked, and as she passed along like a cold, stately goddess, +the gypsy rolled on the grass in an ecstasy of rage. She could never be +what her rival was, and what her rival was, as she suspected, formed +Lambert's ideal of womanhood. When she again peered through the bush, +Lady Agnes had disappeared. But there was no need for Chaldea to ask her +jealous heart where she had gone. With the stealth and cunning of a Red +Indian, the gypsy took up the trail, and saw the woman she followed +enter the cottage. For a single moment she had it in her mind to run to +the camp and bring Pine, but reflecting that in a moment of rage the man +might kill Lambert, Chaldea checked her first impulse, and bent all her +energies towards getting sufficiently near to listen to a conversation +which was not meant for her ears.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Agnes had been admitted by Mrs. Tribb, a dried-up little +woman with the rosy face of a winter apple, and a continual smile of +satisfaction with herself and with her limited world. This consisted of +the cottage, in the wood, and of the near villages, where she repaired +on occasions to buy food. Sometimes, indeed, she went to The Manor, for, +born and bred on the Garvington estates, Mrs. Tribb knew all the +servants at the big house. She had married a gamekeeper, who had died, +and unwilling to leave the country she knew best, had gladly accepted +the offer of Lord Garvington to look after the woodland cottage. In this +way Lambert became possessed of an exceedingly clean housekeeper, and a +wonderfully good cook. In fact so excellent a cook was Mrs. Tribb, that +Garvington had frequently suggested she should come to The Manor. But, +so far, Lambert had managed to keep the little woman to himself. Mrs. +Tribb adored him, since she had known him from babyhood, and declined to +leave him under any circumstances. She thought Lambert the best man in +the world, and challenged the universe to find another so handsome and +clever, and so considerate.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, my lady, is it yourself?" said Mrs. Tribb, throwing up her dry +little hands and dropping a dignified curtsey. "Well, I do call it good +of you to come and see Master Noel. He don't go out enough, and don't +take enough interest in his stomach, if your ladyship will pardon my +mentioning that part of him. But you don't know, my lady, what it is to +be a cook, and to see the dishes get cold, while he as should eat them +goes on painting, not but what Master Noel don't paint like an angel, as +I've said dozens of times."</p> + +<p>While Mrs. Tribb ran on in this manner her lively black eyes twinkled +anxiously. She knew that her master and Lady Agnes had been, as she said +herself, "next door to engaged," and knew also that Lambert was fretting +over the match which had been brought about for the glorification of the +family. The housekeeper, therefore, wondered why Lady Agnes had come, +and asked herself whether it would not be wise to say that Master +Noel—from old associations, she always called Lambert by this juvenile +title—was not at home. But she banished the thought as unworthy, the +moment it entered her active brain, and with another curtsey in response +to the visitor's greeting, she conducted her to the studio. "Them two +angels will never do no wrong, anyhow," was Mrs. Tribb's reflection, as +she closed the door and left the pair together. "But I do hope as that +black-faced husband won't ever learn. He's as jealous as Cain, and I +don't want Master Noel to be no Abel!"</p> + +<p>If Mrs. Tribb, instead of going to the kitchen, which she did, had gone +out of the front door, she would have found Chaldea lying full length +amongst the flowers under the large window of the studio. This was +slightly open, and the girl could hear every word that was spoken, while +so swiftly and cleverly had she gained her point of vantage, that those +within never for one moment suspected her presence. If they had, they +would assuredly have kept better guard over their tongues, for the +conversation was of the most private nature, and did not tend to soothe +the eavesdropper's jealousy.</p> + +<p>Lambert was so absorbed in his painting—he was working at the +Esmeralda-Quasimodo picture—that he scarcely heard the studio door +open, and it was only when Mrs. Tribb's shrill voice announced the name +of his visitor, that he woke to the surprising fact that the woman he +loved was within a few feet of him. The blood rushed to his face, and +then retired to leave him deadly pale, but Agnes was more composed, and +did not let her heart's tides mount to high-water mark. On seeing her +self-possession, the man became ashamed that he had lost his own, and +strove to conceal his momentary lapse into a natural emotion, by pushing +forward an arm-chair.</p> + +<p>"This is a surprise, Agnes," he said in a voice which he strove vainly +to render steady. "Won't you sit down?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," and she took her seat like a queen on her throne, looking +fair and gracious as any white lily. What with her white dress, white +gloves and shoes, and straw hat tied under her chin with a broad white +ribbon in old Georgian fashion, she looked wonderfully cool, and pure, +and—as Lambert inwardly observed—holy. Her face was as faintly tinted +with color as is a tea-rose, and her calm, brown eyes, under her smooth +brown hair, added to the suggestive stillness of her looks. She seemed +in her placidity to be far removed from any earthly emotion, and +resembled a picture of the Madonna, serene, peaceful, and somewhat sad. +Yet who could tell what anguished feelings were masked by her womanly +pride?</p> + +<p>"I hope you do not find the weather too warm for walking," said Lambert, +reining in his emotions with an iron hand, and speaking conventionally.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I enjoyed the walk. I am staying at The Manor."</p> + +<p>"So I understand."</p> + +<p>"And you are staying here?"</p> + +<p>"There can be no doubt on that point."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you are acting wisely?" she asked with great calmness.</p> + +<p>"I might put the same question to you, Agnes, seeing that you have come +to live within three miles of my hermitage."</p> + +<p>"It is because you are living in what you call your hermitage that I +have come," rejoined Agnes, with a slight color deepening her cheeks. +"Is it fair to me that you should shut yourself up and play the part of +the disappointed lover?"</p> + +<p>Lambert, who had been touching up his picture here and there, laid down +his palette and brushes with ostentatious care, and faced her doggedly. +"I don't understand what you mean," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think you do; and in the hope that I may induce you, in justice +to me, to change your conduct, I have come over."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you should have come," he observed in a low voice, and +threw himself on the couch with averted eyes.</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes colored again. "You are talking nonsense," she said with some +sharpness. "There is no harm in my coming to see my cousin."</p> + +<p>"We were more than cousins once."</p> + +<p>"Exactly, and unfortunately people know that. But you needn't make +matters worse by so pointedly keeping away from me."</p> + +<p>Lambert looked up quickly. "Do you wish me to see you often?" he asked, +and there was a new note in his voice which irritated her.</p> + +<p>"Personally I don't, but—"</p> + +<p>"But what?" He rose and stood up, very tall and very straight, looking +down on her with a hungry look in his blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"People are talking," murmured the lady, and stared at the floor, +because she could not face that same look.</p> + +<p>"Let them talk. What does it matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to you, perhaps, but to me a great deal. I have a husband."</p> + +<p>"As I know to my cost," he interpolated.</p> + +<p>"Then don't let me know it to <i>my</i> cost," she said pointedly. "Sit down +and let us talk common sense."</p> + +<p>Lambert did not obey at once. "I am only a human being, Agnes—"</p> + +<p>"Quite so, and a man at that. Act like a man, then, and don't place the +burden on a woman's shoulders."</p> + +<p>"What burden?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Noel, can't you understand?"</p> + +<p>"I daresay I can if you will explain. I wish you hadn't come here +to-day. I have enough to bear without that."</p> + +<p>"And have I nothing to bear?" she demanded, a flash of passion ruffling +her enforced calm. "Do you think that anything but the direst need +brought me here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what brought you here. I am waiting for an explanation."</p> + +<p>"What is the use of explaining what you already know?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing," he repeated doggedly. "Explain."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Lady Agnes with some bitterness, "it seems to me that an +explanation is really necessary, as apparently I am talking to a child +instead of a man. Sit down and listen."</p> + +<p>This time Lambert obeyed, and laughed as he did so. "Your taunts don't +hurt me in the least," he observed. "I love you too much."</p> + +<p>"And I love in return. No! Don't rise again. I did not come here to +revive the embers of our dead passion."</p> + +<p>"Embers!" cried Lambert with bitter scorn. "Embers, indeed! And a dead +passion; how well you put it. So far as I am concerned, Agnes, the +passion is not dead and never will be."</p> + +<p>"I am aware of that, and so I have come to appeal to that passion. Love +means sacrifice. I want you to understand that."</p> + +<p>"I do, by experience. Did I not surrender you for the sake of the family +name? Understand! I should think I did understand."</p> + +<p>"I—think—not," said Lady Agnes slowly and gently. "It is necessary to +revive your recollections. We loved one another since we were boy and +girl, and we intended, as you know, to marry. There was no regular +engagement between us, but it was an understood family arrangement. My +father always approved of it; my brother did not."</p> + +<p>"No. Because he saw in you an article of sale out of which he hoped to +make money," sneered Lambert, nursing his ankle.</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes winced. "Don't make it too hard for me," she said +plaintively. "My life is uncomfortable enough as it is. Remember that +when my father died we were nearly ruined. Only by the greatest +cleverness did Garvington manage to keep interest on the mortgages paid +up, hoping that he would marry a rich wife—an American for choice—and +so could put things straight. But he married Jane, as you know—"</p> + +<p>"Because he is a glutton, and she knows all about cooking."</p> + +<p>"Well, gluttony may be as powerful a vice as drinking and gambling, and +all the rest of it. It is with Garvington, although I daresay that +seeing the position he was in, people would laugh to think he should +marry a poor woman, when he needed a rich wife. But at that time Hubert +wanted to marry me, and Garvington got his cook-wife, while I was +sacrificed."</p> + +<p>"Seeing that I loved you and you loved me, I wonder—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know you wondered, but you finally accepted my explanation that +I did it to save the family name."</p> + +<p>"I did, and, much as I hated your sacrifice, it was necessary."</p> + +<p>"More necessary than you think," said Lady Agnes, sinking her voice to +a whisper and glancing round, "In a moment of madness Garvington altered +a check which Hubert gave him, and was in danger of arrest. Hubert +declared that he would give up the check if I married him. I did so, to +save my brother and the family name."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Agnes!" Lambert jumped up. "I never knew this."</p> + +<p>"It was not necessary to tell you. I made the excuse of saving the +family name and property generally. You thought it was merely the +bankruptcy court, but I knew that it meant the criminal court. However, +I married Hubert, and he put the check in the fire in my presence and in +Garvington's. He has also fulfilled his share of the bargain which he +made when he bought me, and has paid off a great many of the mortgages. +However, Garvington became too outrageous in his demands, and lately +Hubert has refused to help him any more. I don't blame him; he has paid +enough for me."</p> + +<p>"You are worth it," said Lambert emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Well, you may think so, and perhaps he does also. But does it not +strike you, Noel, what a poor figure I and Garvington, and the whole +family, yourself included, cut in the eyes of the world? We were poor, +and I was sold to get money to save the land."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but this changing of the check also—"</p> + +<p>"The world doesn't know of that," said Agnes hurriedly. "Hubert has been +very loyal to me. I must be loyal to him."</p> + +<p>"You are. Who dares to say that you are not?"</p> + +<p>"No one—as yet," she replied pointedly.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, flushing through his fair skin.</p> + +<p>"I mean that if you met me in the ordinary way, and behaved to me as an +ordinary man, people would not talk. But you shun my society, and even +when I am at The Manor, you do not come near because of my presence."</p> + +<p>"It is so hard to be near you and yet, owing to your marriage, so far +from you," muttered the man savagely.</p> + +<p>"If it is hard for you, think how hard it must be for me," said the +woman vehemently, her passion coming to the surface. "People talk of the +way in which you avoid me, and hint that we love one another still."</p> + +<p>"It is true! Agnes, you know it is true!"</p> + +<p>"Need the whole world know that it is true?" cried Agnes, rising, with +a gust of anger passing over her face. "If you would only come to The +Manor, and meet me in London, and accept Hubert's invitations to dinner, +people would think that our attachment was only a boy and girl +engagement, that we had outgrown. They would even give me credit for +loving Hubert—"</p> + +<p>"But you don't?" cried Lambert with a jealous pang.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. He is my chosen husband, and has carried out his part of the +bargain by freeing many of Garvington's estates. Surely the man ought to +have something for his money. I don't love him as a wife should love her +husband, not with heart-whole devotion, that is. But I give him loyalty, +and I respect him, and I try to make him happy in every way. I do my +part, Noel, as you do yours. Since I have been compelled to sacrifice +love for money, at least let us be true to the sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"You didn't sacrifice yourself wholly for money."</p> + +<p>"No, I did not. It was because of Garvington's crime. But no one knows +of that, and no one ever shall know. In fact, so happy am I and +Hubert—"</p> + +<p>"Happy?" said Lambert wincing.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she declared firmly. "He thinks so, and whatever unhappiness I +may feel, I conceal from him. But you must come to The Manor, and meet +me here, there, and everywhere, so that people shall not say, as they +are doing, that you are dying of love, and that, because I am a greedy +fortune-hunter, I ruined your life."</p> + +<p>"They do not dare. I have not heard any—"</p> + +<p>"What can you hear in this jungle?" interrupted Lady Agnes with scorn. +"You stop your ears with cotton wool, but I am in the world, hearing +everything. And the more unpleasant the thing is, the more readily do +I hear it. You can end this trouble by coming out of your lovesick +retirement, and by showing that you no longer care for me."</p> + +<p>"That would be acting a lie."</p> + +<p>"And do I not act a lie?" she cried fiercely. "Is not my whole marriage +a lie? I despise myself for my weakness in yielding, and yet, God help +me, what else could I do when Garvington's fair fame was in question? +Think of the disgrace, had he been prosecuted by Hubert. And Hubert +knows that you and I loved; that I could not give him the love he +desired. He was content to accept me on those terms. I don't say he was +right; but am I right, are you right, is Garvington right? Is any one of +us right? Not one, not one. The whole thing is horrible, but I make the +best of it, since I did what I did do, openly and for a serious purpose +of which the world knows nothing. Do your part, Noel, and come to The +Manor, if only to show that you no longer care for me. You +understand"—she clasped her hands in agony. "You surely understand."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lambert in a low voice, and suddenly looked years older. "I +understand at last, Agnes. You shall no longer bear the burden alone. I +shall be a loyal friend to you, my dear," and he took her hand.</p> + +<p>"Will you be a loyal friend to my husband?" she asked, withdrawing it.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lambert, and he bit his lip. "God helping me, I will."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI" />CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE MAN AND THE WOMAN.</h3> + + + +<p>The interview between Lady Agnes and Lambert could scarcely be called a +love-scene, since it was dominated by a stern sense of duty. Chaldea, +lying at length amongst the crushed and fragrant flowers, herself in her +parti-colored attire scarcely distinguishable from the rainbow blossoms, +was puzzled by the way in which the two reined in their obvious +passions. To her simple, barbaric nature, the situation appeared +impossible. If he loved her and she loved him, why did they not run away +to enjoy life together? The husband who had paid money for the wife did +not count, nor did the brother, who had sold his sister to hide his +criminal folly. That Lady Agnes should have traded herself to save +Garvington from a well-deserved punishment, seemed inexcusable to the +gypsy. If he had been the man she loved, then indeed might she have +acted rightly. But having thrown over that very man in this silly +fashion, for the sake of what did not appear to be worth the sacrifice, +Chaldea felt that Agnes did not deserve Lambert, and she then and there +determined that the Gentile lady should never possess him.</p> + +<p>Of course, on the face of it, there was no question of possession. The +man being weaker than the woman would have been only too glad to elope, +and thus cut the Gordian knot of the unhappy situation. But the woman, +having acted from a high sense of duty, which Chaldea could not rise to, +evidently was determined to continue to be a martyr. The question was, +could she keep up that pose in the face of the undeniable fact that she +loved her cousin? The listening girl thought not. Sooner or later the +artificial barrier would be broken through by the held-back flood of +passion, and then Lady Agnes would run away from the man who had bought +her. And quite right, too, thought Chaldea, although she had no notion +of permitting such an elopement to take place. That Agnes would hold to +her bargain all her life, because Hubert had fulfilled his part, never +occurred to the girl. She was not civilized enough to understand this +problem of a highly refined nature.</p> + +<p>Since the situation was so difficult, Lambert was glad to see the back +of his cousin. He escorted her to the door, but did not attend her +through the wood. In fact, they parted rather abruptly, which was wise. +All had been said that could be said, and Lambert had given his promise +to share the burden with Agnes by acting the part of a lover who had +never really been serious. But it did not do to discuss details, as +these were too painful, so the woman hurried away without a backward +glance, and Lambert, holding his heart between his teeth, returned to +the studio. Neither one of the two noticed Chaldea crouching amongst the +flowers. Had they been less pre-occupied, they might have done so; as it +was she escaped observation.</p> + +<p>As soon as the coast was clear, Chaldea stole like a snake along the +ground, through the high herbage of the garden, and beyond the circle of +the mysterious monoliths. Even across the lawns of the glade did she +crawl, so as not to be seen, although she need not have taken all this +trouble, since Lambert, with a set face and a trembling hand, was +working furiously at a minor picture he utilized to get rid of such +moods. But the gypsy did not know this, and so writhed into the woods +like the snake of Eden—and of that same she was a very fair +sample—until, hidden by the boles of ancient trees, she could stand +upright. When she did so, she drew a long breath, and wondered what was +best to be done.</p> + +<p>The most obvious course was to seek Ishmael and make a lying report of +the conversation. That his wife should have been with Lambert would be +quite enough to awaken the civilized gypsy's jealousy, for after all his +civilization was but skin deep. Still, if she did this, Chaldea was +clever enough to see that she would precipitate a catastrophe, and +either throw Agnes into Lambert's arms, or make the man run the risk of +getting Pine's knife tickling his fifth rib. Either result did not +appeal to her. She wished to get Lambert to herself, and his safety was +of vital importance to her. After some consideration, she determined +that she would boldly face the lover, and confess that she had overheard +everything. Then she would have him in her power, since to save the +wife from the vengeance of the husband, although there was no reason for +such vengeance, he would do anything to keep the matter of the visit +quiet. Of course the interview had been innocent, and Chaldea knew that +such was the case. Nevertheless, by a little dexterous lying, and some +vivid word-painting, she could make things extremely unpleasant for the +couple. This being so, Lambert would have to subscribe to her terms. And +these were, that he should leave Agnes and marry her. That there was +such a difference in their rank mattered nothing to the girl. Love +levelled all ranks, in her opinion.</p> + +<p>But while arranging what she should do, if Lambert proved obstinate, +Chaldea also arranged to fascinate him, if possible, into loving her. +She did not wish to use her power of knowledge until her power of +fascination failed. And this for two reasons. In the first place, it was +not her desire to drive the man into a corner lest he should defy her +and fight, which would mean—to her limited comprehension—that +everything being known to Pine, the couple would confess all and elope. +In the second place, Chaldea was piqued to think that Lambert should +prove to be so indifferent to her undeniable beauty, as to love this +pale shadow of a Gentile lady. She would make certain, she told herself, +if he really preferred the lily to the full-blown rose, and on his +choice depended her next step. Gliding back to the camp, she decided to +attend to one thing at a time, and the immediate necessity was to charm +the man into submission. For this reason Chaldea sought out the Servian +gypsy, who was her slave.</p> + +<p>Her slave Kara certainly was, but not her rom. If he had been her +husband she would not have dared to propose to him what she did propose. +He was amiable enough as a slave, because he had no hold over her, but +if she married him according to the gypsy law, he would then be her +master, and should she indulge her fancy for a Gentile, he would +assuredly use a very nasty-looking knife, which he wore under the green +coat. Even as it was, Kara would not be pleased to fiddle to her +dancing, since he already was jealous of Lambert. But Chaldea knew how +to manage this part of the business, risky though it was. The hairy +little ape with the musician's soul had no claim on her, unless she +chose to give him that of a husband. Then, indeed, things would be +different, but the time had not come for marital slavery.</p> + +<p>The schemer found Kara at the hour of sunset sitting at the door of the +tent he occupied, drawing sweet tones from his violin. This was the +little man's way of conversing, for he rarely talked to human beings. He +spoke to the fiddle and the fiddle spoke to him, probably about Chaldea, +since the girl was almost incessantly in his thoughts. She occupied them +now, and when he raised his shaggy head at the touch on his hump-back, +he murmured with joy at the sight of her flushed beauty. Had he known +that the flush came from jealousy of a rival, Kara might not have been +so pleased. The two conversed in Romany, since the Servian did not speak +English.</p> + +<p>"Brother?" questioned Chaldea, standing in the glory of the rosy sunset +which slanted through the trees. "What of Ishmael?"</p> + +<p>"He is with Gentilla in her tent, sister. Do you wish to see him?"</p> + +<p>Chaldea shook her proud head. "What have I to do with the half Romany? +Truly, brother, his heart is Gentile, though his skin be of Egypt."</p> + +<p>"Why should that be, sister, when his name signifies that he is of the +gentle breed?" asked Kara, laying down his violin.</p> + +<p>"Gentile but not gentle," said Chaldea punning, then checked herself +lest she should say too much. She had sworn to keep Pine's secret, and +intended to do so, until she could make capital out of it. At present +she could not, so behaved honorably. "But he's Romany enough to split +words with the old witch by the hour, so let him stay where he is. +Brother, would you make money?" Kara nodded and looked up with diamond +eyes, which glittered and gloated on the beauty of her dark face. "Then, +brother," continued the girl, "the Gorgio who paints gives me gold to +dance for him."</p> + +<p>The Servian's face—what could be seen of it for hair—grew sombre, and +he spat excessively. "Curses on the Gentile!" he growled low in his +throat.</p> + +<p>"On him, but not on the money, brother," coaxed the girl, stooping to +pat his face. "It's fine work, cheating the rye. But jealous you must +not be, if the gold is to chink in our pockets."</p> + +<p>Kara still frowned. "Were you my romi, sister—"</p> + +<p>"Aye, if I were. Then indeed. But your romi I am not yet."</p> + +<p>"Some day you will be. It would be a good fortune, sister. I am as ugly +as you are lovely, and we two together, you dancing to my playing, would +make pockets of red gold. White shows best when placed on black."</p> + +<p>"What a mine of wisdom you are," jeered Chaldea, nodding. "Yes. It is +so, and my rom you may be, if you obey."</p> + +<p>"But if you let the Gorgio make love to you—"</p> + +<p>"Hey! Am I not a free Roman, brother? You have not yet caught the bird. +It still sings on the bough. If I kiss him I suck gold from his lips. If +I put fond arms around his neck I but gather wealth for us both. Can you +snare a mouse without cheese, brother?"</p> + +<p>Kara looked at her steadily, and then lifted his green coat to show +the gleam of a butcher knife. "Should you go too far," he said +significantly; and touched the blade.</p> + +<p>Chaldea bent swiftly, and snatching the weapon from his belt, flung it +into the coarse grass under the trees. "So I fling you away," said she, +and stamped with rage. "Truly, brother, speaking Romanly, you are a fool +of fools, and take cheating for honesty. I lure the Gorgio at my will, +and says you whimpering-like, 'She's my romi,' the which is a lie. Bless +your wisdom for a hairy toad, and good-bye, for I go to my own people +near Lundra, and never will he who doubted my honesty see me more."</p> + +<p>She turned away, and Kara limped after her to implore forgiveness. He +assured her that he trusted her fully, and that whatever tricks she +played the Gentile would not be taken seriously by himself. "Poison him +I would," grumbled the little gnome in his beard. "For his golden talk +makes you smile sweetly upon him. But for the gold—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for the gold we must play the fox. Well, brother, now that you +talk so, wait until the moon is up, then hide in the woods round the +cottage dell with your violin to your chin. I lure the rabbit from its +hole, and then you play the dance that delights the Gorgios. But what I +do, with kisses or arm-loving, my brother," she added shaking her +finger, "is but the play of the wind to shake the leaves. Believe me +honest and my rom you shall be—some day!" and she went away laughing, +to eat and drink, for the long watching had tired her. As for Kara he +crawled again into the underwood to search for his knife. Apparently he +did not trust Chaldea as much as she wanted him to.</p> + +<p>Thus it came about that when the moon rolled through a starry sky like a +golden wheel, Lambert, sighing at his studio window, saw a slim and +graceful figure glide into the clear space of lawn beyond the monoliths. +So searching was the thin moonlight that he recognized Chaldea at once, +as she wandered here and there restless as a butterfly, and apparently +as aimless. But, had he known it, she had her eyes on the cottage all +the time, and had he failed to come forth she would have come to inquire +if he was at home. But the artist did come forth, thinking to wile away +an hour with the fascinating gypsy girl. Always dressing for dinner, +even in solitude, for the habit of years was too strong to lay +aside—and, moreover, he was fastidious in his dress to preserve his +self-respect—he appeared at the door looking slender and well-set up in +his dark clothes. Although it was August the night was warm, and Lambert +did not trouble to put on cap or overcoat. With his hands in his pockets +and a cigar between his lips he strolled over to the girl, where she +swayed and swung in the fairy light.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Chaldea," he said leisurely, and leaning against one of the +moss-grown monoliths, "what are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"The rye," exclaimed Chaldea, with a well-feigned start of surprise. +"Avali the rye. Sarishan, my Gorgious gentleman, you, too, are a +nightbird. Have you come out mousing like an owl? Ha! ha! and you hear +the nightingale singing, speaking in the Gentile manner," and clapping +her hands she lifted up a full rich voice.</p> + +<p> "Dyal o pani repedishis,<br/> + M'ro pirano hegedishis."</p> + +<p>"What does that mean, Chaldea?"</p> + +<p>"It is an Hungarian song, and means that while the stream flows I hear +the violin of my love. Kara taught me the ditty."</p> + +<p>"And Kara is your love?"</p> + +<p>"No. Oh, no; oh, no," sang Chaldea, whirling round and round in quite a +magical manner. "No rom have I, but a mateless bird I wander. Still I +hear the violin of my true love, my new love, who knows my droms, and +that means my habits, rye," she ended, suddenly speaking in a natural +manner.</p> + +<p>"I don't hear the violin, however," said Lambert lazily, and thinking +what a picturesque girl she was in her many-hued rag-tag garments, and +with the golden coins glittering in her black hair.</p> + +<p>"You will, rye, you will," she said confidentially. "Come, my darling +gentleman, cross my hand with silver and I dance. I swear it. No hokkeny +baro will you behold when the wind pipes for me."</p> + +<p>"Hokkeny baro."</p> + +<p>"A great swindle, my wise sir. Hai, what a pity you cannot patter the +gentle Romany tongue. Kek! Kek! What does it matter, when you speak +Gentile gibberish like an angel. Sit, rye, and I dance for you."</p> + +<p>"Quite like Carmen and Don José in the opera," murmured Lambert, sliding +down to the foot of the rude stone.</p> + +<p>"What of her and of him? Were they Romans?"</p> + +<p>"Carmen was and José wasn't. She danced herself into his heart."</p> + +<p>Chaldea's eyes flashed, and she made a hasty sign to attract the happy +omen of his saying to herself. "Kushto bak," cried Chaldea, using the +gypsy for good luck. "And to me, to me," she clapped her hand. "Hark, my +golden rye, and watch me dance your love into my life."</p> + +<p>The wind was rising and sighed through the wood, shaking myriad leaves +from the trees. Blending with its faint cry came a long, sweet, +sustained note of music. Lambert started, so weird and unexpected was +the sound. "Kara, isn't it?" he asked, looking inquiringly at Chaldea.</p> + +<p>"He talks to the night—he speaks with the wind. Oh-ah-ah-ah. +Ah-oha-oha-oha-ho," sang the gypsy, clapping her hands softly, then, +as the music came breathing from the hidden violin in dreamy sensuous +tones, she raised her bare arms and began to dance. The place, the +dancer, the hour, the mysterious music, and the pale enchantments of +the moon—it was like fairyland.</p> + +<p>Lambert soon let his cigar go out, so absorbed did he become in watching +the dance. It was a wonderful performance, sensuous and weirdly unusual. +He had never seen a dance exactly like it before. The violin notes +sounded like actual words, and the dancer answered them with responsive +movements of her limbs, so that without speech the onlooker saw a +love-drama enacted before his eyes. Chaldea—so he interpreted the +dance—swayed gracefully from the hips, without moving her feet, in the +style of a Nautch girl. She was waiting for some one, since to right and +left she swung with a delicate hand curved behind her ear. Suddenly she +started, as if she heard an approaching footstep, and in maidenly +confusion glided to a distance, where she stood with her hands across +her bosom, the very picture of a surprised nymph. Mentally, the dance +translated itself to Lambert somewhat after this fashion:</p> + +<p>"She waits for her lover. That little run forward means that she sees +him coming. She falls at his feet; she kisses them. He raises her—I +suppose that panther spring from the ground means that he raises her. +She caresses him with much fondling and many kisses. By Jove, what +pantomime! Now she dances to please him. She stops and trembles; the +dance does not satisfy. She tries another. No! No! Not that! It is too +dreamy—the lover is in a martial mood. This time she strikes his fancy. +Kara is playing a wild Hungarian polonaise. Wonderful! Wonderful!"</p> + +<p>He might well say so, and he struggled to his feet, leaning against the +pillar of stone to see the dancer better. From the wood came the fierce +and stirring Slav music, and Chaldea's whole expressive body answered to +every note as a needle does to a magnet. She leaped, clicking her heels +together, advanced, as if on the foe, with a bound—was flung back—so +it seemed—and again sprang to the assault. She stiffened to stubborn +resistance—she unexpectedly became pliant and yielding and graceful, +and voluptuous, while the music took on the dreamy tones of love. And +Lambert translated the change after his own idea:</p> + +<p>"The music does not please the dancer—it is too martial. She fears lest +her lover should rush off to the wars, and seeks to detain him by the +dance of Venus. But he will go. He rises; he speeds away; she breaks off +the dance. Ah! what a cry of despair the violin gave just now. She +follows, stretching out her empty arms. But it is useless—he is gone. +Bah! She snaps her fingers. What does she care! She will dance to please +herself, and to show that her heart is yet whole. What a Bacchanalian +strain. She whirls and springs and swoops and leaps. She comes near to +me, whirling like a Dervish; she recedes, and then comes spinning round +again, like a mad creature. And then—oh, hang it! What do you mean? +Chaldea, what are you doing?"</p> + +<p>Lambert had some excuse for suddenly bursting into speech, when he cried +out vigorously: "Oh, hang it!" for Chaldea whirled right up to him and +had laid her arms round his neck, and her lips against his cheek. The +music stopped abruptly, with a kind of angry snarl, as if Kara, furious +at the sight, had put his wrath into the last broken note. Then all was +silent, and the artist found himself imprisoned in the arms of the +woman, which were locked round his neck. With an oath he unlinked her +fingers and flung her away from him fiercely.</p> + +<p>"You fool—you utter fool!" cried Lambert, striving to calm down the +beating of his heart, and restrain the racing of his blood, for he was +a man, and the sudden action of the gypsy had nearly swept away his +self-restraint.</p> + +<p>"I love you—I love you," panted Chaldea from the grass, where he had +thrown her. "Oh, my beautiful one, I love you."</p> + +<p>"You are crazy," retorted Lambert, quivering with many emotions to which +he could scarcely put a name, so shaken was he by the experience. "What +the devil do you mean by behaving in this way?" and his voice rose in +such a gust of anger that Kara, hidden in the wood, rejoiced. He could +not understand what was being said, but the tone of the voice was enough +for him. He did not know whether Chaldea was cheating the Gentile, or +cheating him; but he gathered that in either case, she had been +repulsed. The girl knew that also, when her ardent eyes swept across +Lambert's white face, and she burst into tears of anger and +disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rye, I give you all, and you take nothing," she wailed tearfully.</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything. You silly girl, do you think that for one moment +I was ever in love with you?"</p> + +<p>"I—I—want you—to—to—love me," sobbed Chaldea, grovelling on the +grass.</p> + +<p>"Then you want an impossibility," and to Lambert's mind's eye there +appeared the vision of a calm and beautiful face, far removed in its +pure looks from the flushed beauty of the fiery gypsy. To gain control +of himself, he took out a cigar and lighted it. But his hand trembled. +"You little fool," he muttered, and sauntered, purposely, slowly toward +the cottage.</p> + +<p>Chaldea gathered herself up with the spring of a tigress, and in a +moment was at his elbow with her face black with rage. Her tears had +vanished and with them went her softer mood. "You—you reject me," she +said in grating tones, and shaking from head to foot as she gripped his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Take away your hand," commanded Lambert sharply, and when she recoiled +a pace he faced her squarely. "You must have been drinking," he +declared, hoping to insult her into common sense. "What would Kara say +if—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want Kara. I want you," interrupted Chaldea, her breast +heaving, and looking sullenly wrathful.</p> + +<p>"Then you can't have me. Why should you think of me in this silly way? +We were very good friends, and now you have spoiled everything. I can +never have you to sit for me again."</p> + +<p>Chaldea's lip drooped. "Never again? Never again?"</p> + +<p>"No. It is impossible, since you have chosen to act in this way. Come, +you silly girl, be sensible, and—"</p> + +<p>"Silly girl! Oh, yes, silly girl," flashed out Chaldea. "And what is +she?"</p> + +<p>"She?" Lambert stiffened himself. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean the Gentile lady. I was under the window this afternoon. I heard +all you were talking about."</p> + +<p>The man stepped back a pace and clenched his hands. "You—listened?" he +asked slowly, and with a very white face.</p> + +<p>Chaldea nodded with a triumphant smile.</p> + +<p>"Avali! And why not? You have no right to love another man's romi."</p> + +<p>"I do not love her," began Lambert, and then checked himself, as he +really could not discuss so delicate a matter with this wildcat. "Why +did you listen, may I ask?" he demanded, passing his tongue over his dry +lips.</p> + +<p>"Because I love you, and love is jealous."</p> + +<p>Lambert restrained himself by a violent effort from shaking her. "You +are talking nonsense," he declared with enforced calmness. "And it is +ridiculous for you to love a man who does not care in the least for +you."</p> + +<p>"It will come—I can wait," insisted Chaldea sullenly.</p> + +<p>"If you wait until Doomsday it will make no difference. I don't love +you, and I have never given you any reason to think so."</p> + +<p>"Chee-chee!" bantered the girl. "Is that because I am not a raclan?"</p> + +<p>"A raclan?"</p> + +<p>"A married Gentile lady, that is. You love her?"</p> + +<p>"I—I—see, here, Chaldea, I am not going to talk over such things with +you, as my affairs are not your business."</p> + +<p>"They are the business of the Gorgious female's rom."</p> + +<p>"Rom? Her husband, you mean. What do you know of—"</p> + +<p>"I know that the Gentle Pine is really one of us," interrupted the girl +quickly. "Ishmael Hearne is his name."</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert Pine?"</p> + +<p>"Ishmael Hearne," insisted Chaldea pertly. "He comes to the fire of the +Gentle Romany when he wearies of your Gorgious flesh-pots."</p> + +<p>"Pine a gypsy," muttered Lambert, and the memory of that dark, lean, +Eastern face impressed him with the belief that what the girl said was +true.</p> + +<p>"Avali. A true son of the road. He is here."</p> + +<p>"Here?" Lambert started violently. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I say what I mean, rye. He you call Pine is in our camp enjoying the +old life. Shall I bring him to you?" she inquired demurely.</p> + +<p>In a flash Lambert saw his danger, and the danger of Agnes, seeing that +the millionaire was as jealous as Othello. However, it seemed to him +that honesty was the best policy at the moment. "I shall see him myself +later," he declared after a pause. "If you listened, you must know that +there is no reason why I should not see him. His wife is my cousin, and +paid me a friendly visit—that is all."</p> + +<p>"Yes; that is all," mocked the girl contemptuously. "But if I tell +him—"</p> + +<p>"Tell him what?"</p> + +<p>"That you love his romi!"</p> + +<p>"He knows that," said Lambert quietly. "And knows also that I am an +honorable man. See here, Chaldea, you are dangerous, because this silly +love of yours has warped your common sense. You can make a lot of +mischief if you so choose, I know well."</p> + +<p>"And I <i>shall</i> choose, my golden rye, if you love me not."</p> + +<p>"Then set about it at once," said Lambert boldly. "It is best to be +honest, my girl. I have done nothing wrong, and I don't intend to do +anything wrong, so you can say what you like. To-night I shall go to +London, and if Pine, or Hearne, or whatever you call him, wants me, he +knows my town address."</p> + +<p>"You defy me?" panted Chaldea, her breast rising and falling quickly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; truth must prevail in the end. I make no bargain with a spy," and +he gave her a contemptuous look, as he strode into the cottage and shut +the door with an emphatic bang.</p> + +<p>"Hai!" muttered the gypsy between her teeth. "Hatch till the dood wells +apré," which means: "Wait until the moon rises!" an ominous saying for +Lambert.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII" />CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>THE SECRETARY.</h3> + + +<p>"Was ever a man in so uncomfortable a position?"</p> + +<p>Lambert asked himself this question as soon as he was safe in his +studio, and he found it a difficult one to answer. It was true that what +he had said to Agnes, and what Agnes had said to him, was perfectly +honest and extremely honorable, considering the state of their feelings. +But the conversation had been overheard by an unscrupulous woman, whose +jealousy would probably twist innocence into guilt. It was certain that +she would go to Pine and give him a garbled version of what had taken +place, in which case the danger was great, both to himself and to Agnes. +Lambert had spoken bravely enough to the marplot, knowing that he had +done no wrong, but now he was by no means sure that he had acted +rightly. Perhaps it would have been better to temporize but that would +have meant a surrender young to Chaldea's unmaidenly wooing. And, as the +man had not a spark of love for her in a heart given entirely to another +woman, he was unwilling even to feign playing the part of a lover.</p> + +<p>On reflection he still held to his resolution to go to London, thinking +that it would be best for him to be out of reach of Agnes while Pine was +in the neighborhood. The news that the millionaire was a gypsy had +astonished him at first; but now that he considered the man's dark +coloring and un-English looks, he quite believed that what Chaldea said +was true. And he could understand also that Pine—or Hearne, since that +was his true name—would occasionally wish to breathe the free air of +heath and road since he had been cradled under a tent, and must at times +feel strongly the longing for the old lawless life. But why should he +revert to his beginnings so near to his brother-in-law's house, where +his wife was staying? "Unless he came to keep an eye on her," murmured +Lambert, and unconsciously hit on the very reason of the pseudo-gypsy's +presence at Garvington.</p> + +<p>After all, it would be best to go to London for a time to wait until +he saw what Chaldea would do. Then he could meet Pine and have an +understanding with him. The very fact that Pine was a Romany, and was on +his native heath, appealed to Lambert as a reason why he should not seek +out the man immediately, as he almost felt inclined to do, in order to +forestall Chaldea's story. As Hearne, the millionaire's wild instincts +would be uppermost, and he would probably not listen to reason, whereas +if the meeting took place in London, Pine would resume to a certain +extent his veneer of civilization and would be more willing to do +justice.</p> + +<p>"Yes," decided Lambert, rising and stretching himself. "I shall go to +London and wait to turn over matters in my own mind. I shall say nothing +to Agnes until I know what is best to be done about Chaldea. Meanwhile, +I shall see the girl and get her to hold her tongue for a time—Damn!" +He frowned. "It's making the best of a dangerous situation, but I don't +see my way to a proper adjustment yet. The most necessary thing is to +gain time."</p> + +<p>With this in his mind he hastily packed a gladstone bag, changed into +tweeds, and told Mrs. Tribb that he was going to London for a day or so. +"I shall get a trap at the inn and drive to the station," he said, as he +halted at the door. "You will receive a wire saying when I shall +return," and leaving the dry little woman, open-mouthed at this sudden +departure, the young man hastened away.</p> + +<p>Instead of going straight to the village, he took a roundabout road to +the camp on the verge of Abbot's Wood. Here he found the vagrants in a +state of great excitement, as Lord Garvington had that afternoon sent +notice by a gamekeeper that they were to leave his land the next day. +Taken up with his own private troubles, Lambert did not pay much +attention to those of the tribe, and looked about for Chaldea. He +finally saw her sitting by one of the fires, in a dejected attitude, +and touched her on the shoulder. At once, like a disturbed animal, she +leaped to her feet.</p> + +<p>"The rye!" said Chaldea, with a gasp, and a hopeful look on her face.</p> + +<p>"Give me three days before you say anything to Pine," said Lambert in a +low voice, and a furtive look round. "You understand."</p> + +<p>"No," said the girl boldly. "Unless you mean—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind what I mean," interrupted the man hastily, for he was +determined not to commit himself. "Will you hold your tongue for three +days?"</p> + +<p>Chaldea looked hard at his face, upon which the red firelight played +brightly, but could not read what was in his mind. However, she thought +that the request showed a sign of yielding, and was a mute confession +that he knew he was in her power. "I give you three days," she murmured. +"But—"</p> + +<p>"I have your promise then, so good-bye," interrupted Lambert abruptly, +and walked away hastily in the direction of Garvington village. His mind +was more or less of a chaos, but at all events he had gained time to +reduce the chaos to some sort of order. Still as yet he could not see +the outcome of the situation and departed swiftly in order to think it +over.</p> + +<p>Chaldea made a step or two, as if to follow, but a reflection that she +could do no good by talking at the moment, and a certainty that she held +him in the hollow of her hand, made her pause. With a hitch of her +shapely shoulders she resumed her seat by the fire, brooding sombrely on +the way in which this Gentile had rejected her love. Bending her black +brows and showing her white teeth like an irritated dog, she inwardly +cursed herself for cherishing so foolish a love. Nevertheless, she did +not try to overcome it, but resolved to force the Gorgio to her feet. +Then she could spurn him if she had a mind to, as he had spurned her. +But she well knew, and confessed it to herself with a sigh, that there +would be no spurning on her part, since her wayward love was stronger +than her pride.</p> + +<p>"Did the Gentile bring the gold, my sister?" asked a harsh voice, and +she raised her head to see Kara's hairy face bent to her ear.</p> + +<p>"No, brother. He goes to Lundra to get the gold. Did I not play my fish +in fine style?"</p> + +<p>"I took it for truth, sister!" said Kara, looking at her searchingly.</p> + +<p>Chaldea nodded wearily. "I am a great witch, as you can see."</p> + +<p>"You will be my romi when the gold chinks in our pockets?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for certain, brother. It's a true fortune!"</p> + +<p>"Before our camp is changed, sister?" persisted the man greedily.</p> + +<p>"No; for to-morrow we may take the road, since the great lord orders us +off his land. And yet—" Chaldea stood up, suddenly recollecting what +had been said by Pine's wife. "Why should we leave?"</p> + +<p>"The rabbit can't kick dust in the fox's face, sister," said Kara, +meaning that Garvington was too strong for the gypsies.</p> + +<p>"There are rabbits and rabbits," said Chaldea sententiously. "Where is +Hearne, brother?"</p> + +<p>"In Gentilla's tent with a Gorgious gentleman. He's trading a horse with +the swell rye, and wants no meddling with his time, sister."</p> + +<p>"I meddle now," snapped Chaldea, and walked away in her usual free and +graceful manner. Kara shrugged his shoulders and then took refuge in +talking to his violin, to which he related his doubts of the girl's +truth. And he smiled grimly, as he thought of the recovered knife which +was again snugly hidden under his weather-worn green coat.</p> + +<p>Chaldea, who did not stand on ceremony, walked to the end of the camp +without paying any attention to the excited gypsies, and flung back the +flap of the old woman's tent. Mother Cockleshell was not within, as she +had given the use of her abode to Pine and his visitor. This latter was +a small, neat man with a smooth, boyish face and reddish hair. He had +the innocent expression of a fox-terrier, and rather resembled one. He +was neatly and inoffensively dressed in blue serge, and although he did +not look exactly like a gentleman, he would have passed for one in a +crowd. When Chaldea made her abrupt entrance he was talking volubly to +Pine, and the millionaire addressed him—when he answered—as Silver. +Chaldea, remembering the conversation she had overheard between Pine and +Miss Greeby, speedily reached the conclusion that the neat little man +was the secretary referred to therein. Probably he had come to report +about Lady Agnes.</p> + +<p>"What is it, sister?" demanded Pine sharply, and making a sign that +Silver should stop talking.</p> + +<p>"Does the camp travel to-morrow, brother?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, yes," retorted Pine abruptly.</p> + +<p>"And perhaps no, brother, if you use your power."</p> + +<p>Silver raised his faint eyebrows and looked questioningly at his +employer, as if to ask what this cryptic sentence meant. Pine knew only +too well, since Chaldea had impressed him thoroughly with the fact that +she had overheard many of his secrets. Therefore he did not waste time +in argument, but nodded quietly. "Sleep in peace, sister. The camp shall +stay, if you wish it."</p> + +<p>"I do wish it!" She glanced at Silver and changed her speech to Romany. +"The ring will be here," tapping her finger, "in one week if we stay."</p> + +<p>"So be it, sister," replied Pine, also in Romany, and with a gleam of +satisfaction in his dark eyes. "Go now and return when this Gentile +goes. What of the golden Gorgious one?"</p> + +<p>"He seeks Lundra this night."</p> + +<p>"For the ring, sister?"</p> + +<p>Chaldea looked hard at him. "For the ring" she said abruptly, then +dropping the tent-flap which she had held all the time, she disappeared.</p> + +<p>Silver looked at his master inquiringly, and noted that he seemed very +satisfied. "What did she say in Romany?" he asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"True news and new news, and news you never heard of," mocked Pine. +"Don't ask questions, Mark."</p> + +<p>"But since I am your secretary—"</p> + +<p>"You are secretary to Hubert Pine, not to Ishmael Hearne," broke in the +other man. "And when Romany is spoken it concerns the last."</p> + +<p>Silver's pale-colored, red-rimmed eyes twinkled in an evil manner. "You +are afraid that I may learn too much about you."</p> + +<p>"You know all that is to be known," retorted Pine sharply. "But I won't +have you meddle with my Romany business. A Gentile such as you are +cannot understand the chals."</p> + +<p>"Try me."</p> + +<p>"There is no need. You are my secretary—my trusted secretary—that is +quite enough. I pay you well to keep my secrets."</p> + +<p>"I don't keep them because you pay me," said Silver quickly, and with a +look of meekness belied by the sinister gleam in his pale bluish eyes. +"It is devotion that makes me honest. I owe everything to you."</p> + +<p>"I think you do," observed Pine quietly. "When I found you in +Whitechapel you were only a pauper toymaker."</p> + +<p>"An inventor of toys, remember. You made your fortune out of my +inventions."</p> + +<p>"The three clever toys you invented laid the foundations of my wealth," +corrected the millionaire calmly. "But I made my money in the South +African share business. And if I hadn't taken up your toys, you would +have been now struggling in Whitechapel, since there was no one but me +to exploit your brains in the toy-making way. I have rescued you from +starvation; I have made you my secretary, and pay you a good salary, and +I have introduced you to good society. Yes, you do indeed owe everything +to me. Yet—" he paused.</p> + +<p>"Yet what?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Greeby observed that those who have most cause to be grateful are +generally the least thankful to those who befriend them. I am not sure +but what she is right."</p> + +<p>Silver pushed up his lower lip contemptuously, and a derisive expression +came over his clean-shaven face. "Does a clever man like you go to that +emancipated woman for experience?"</p> + +<p>"Emancipated women are usually very clever," said Pine dryly, "as they +combine the logic of the male with the intuition of the female. And I +have observed myself, in many cases, that kindness brings out +ingratitude."</p> + +<p>Silver looked sullen and uneasy. "I don't know why you should talk to me +in this strain," he said irritably. "I appreciate what you have done for +me, and have no reason to treat you badly. If I did—"</p> + +<p>"I would break you," flamed out his employer, angered by the mere +thought. "So long as you serve me well, Silver, I am your friend, and I +shall treat you as I have always done, with every consideration. But you +play any tricks on me, and—" he paused expressively.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I won't betray you, if that's what you mean."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure you won't," said the millionaire with emphasis. "For if +you do, you return to your original poverty. And remember, Mark, that +there is nothing in my life which has any need of concealment."</p> + +<p>Silver cast a look round the tent and at the rough clothes of the +speaker. "No need of any concealment?" he asked significantly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," rejoined Pine violently. "I don't wish my gypsy origin +to be known in the Gentile world. But if the truth did come to light, +there is nothing to be ashamed of. I commit no crime in calling myself +by a Gorgio name and in accumulating a fortune. You have no hold over +me." The man's look was so threatening that Silver winced.</p> + +<p>"I don't hint at any hold over you," he observed mildly. "I am bound to +you both by gratitude and self-interest."</p> + +<p>"Aha. That last is better. It is just as well that we have come to this +understanding. If you—" Pine's speech was ended by a sharp fit of +coughing, and Silver looked at his contortions with a thin-lipped smile.</p> + +<p>"You'll kill yourself if you live this damp colonial sort of tent-life," +was his observation. "Here, take a drink of water."</p> + +<p>Pine did so, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his rough coat. +"You're a Gorgio," he said, weakly, for the fit had shaken him, "and +can't understand how a bred and born Romany longs for the smell of the +smoke, the space of the open country, and the sound of the kalo jib. +However, I did not ask you here to discuss these things, but to take my +instructions."</p> + +<p>"About Lady Agnes?" asked the secretary, his eyes scintillating.</p> + +<p>"You have had those long ago, although, trusting my wife as I do, there +was really no need for me to ask you to watch her."</p> + +<p>"That is very true. Lady Agnes is exceedingly circumspect."</p> + +<p>"Is she happy?"</p> + +<p>Silver lifted his shoulders. "As happy as a woman can be who is married +to one man while she loves another."</p> + +<p>He expected an outburst of anger from his employer, but none came. On +the contrary, Pine sighed, restlessly. "Poor soul. I did her a wrong in +making her my wife. She would have been happier with Lambert in his +poverty."</p> + +<p>"Probably! Her tastes don't lie like those of other women in the +direction of squandering money. By the way, I suppose, since you are +here, that you know Lambert is staying in the Abbot's Wood Cottage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that. And what of it?" demanded the millionaire sharply.</p> + +<p>"Nothing; only I thought you would like to know. I fancied you had come +here to see if—"</p> + +<p>"I did not. I can trust you to see that my wife and Lambert do not meet +without spying myself."</p> + +<p>"If you love and trust your wife so entirely, I wonder you ask me to spy +on her at all," said Silver with a faint sneer.</p> + +<p>"She is a woman, and we gypsies have sufficient of the Oriental in us to +mistrust even the most honest women. Lambert has not been to The Manor?"</p> + +<p>"No. That's a bad sign. He can't trust himself in her presence."</p> + +<p>"I'll choke the life out of you, rat that you are, if you talk in such a +way about my wife. What you think doesn't matter. Hold your tongue, and +come to business. I asked you here to take my instructions."</p> + +<p>Silver was rather cowed by this outburst, as he was cunning enough to +know precisely how far he could venture with safety. "I am waiting," he +observed in sullen tones.</p> + +<p>"Garvington—as I knew he would—has ordered us off the land. As the +wood is really mine, since I hold it as security, having paid off the +mortgage, I don't choose that he should deal with it as though it were +his own. Here"—he passed along a letter—"I have written that on my +office paper, and you will see that it says, I have heard how gypsies +are camping here, and that it is my wish they should remain. Garvington +is not to order them off on any pretext whatsoever. You understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Silver nodded, and slipped the paper into his breast pocket after +a hasty glance at the contents, which were those the writer had stated. +"But if Garvington wishes to know why you take such an interest in the +gypsies, what am I to say?"</p> + +<p>"Say nothing. Simply do what I have told you."</p> + +<p>"Garvington may suspect that you are a Romany."</p> + +<p>"He won't. He thinks that I'm in Paris, and will never connect me with +Ishmael Hearne. If he asks questions when we meet I can tell him my own +tale. By the way, why is he so anxious to get rid of the tribe?"</p> + +<p>"There have been many burglaries lately in various parts of Hengishire," +explained the secretary. "And Garvington is afraid lest the gypsies +should be mixed up with them. He thinks, this camp being near, some of +the men may break into the house."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! Gypsies steal, I don't deny, but in an open way. They +are not burglars, however, and never will be. Garvington has never seen +any near The Manor that he should take fright in this way."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that. Once or twice I have seen that girl who came +to you hanging about the house."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea?" Pine started and looked earnestly at his companion.</p> + +<p>"Yes. She told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune one day when she met her in the +park, and also tried to make Lady Agnes cross her hand with silver for +the same purpose. Nothing came of that, however, as your wife refused to +have her fortune told."</p> + +<p>Pine frowned and looked uneasy, remembering that Chaldea knew of his +Gentile masquerading. However, as he could see no reason to suspect that +the girl had betrayed him, since she had nothing to gain by taking such +a course, he passed the particular incident over. "I must tell Chaldea +not to go near The Manor," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"You will be wise; and tell the men also. Garvington has threatened to +shoot any one who tries to enter his house."</p> + +<p>"Garvington's a little fool," said Pine violently. "There is no chance +that the Romany will enter his house. He can set his silly mind at +rest."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're warned," said Silver with an elaborate pretence of +indifference.</p> + +<p>Pine looked up, growling. "What the devil do you mean, Mark? Do you +think that I intend to break in. Fool! A Romany isn't a thief of that +sort."</p> + +<p>"I fancied from tradition that they were thieves of all sorts," retorted +the secretary coolly. "And suppose you took a fancy to come quietly and +see your wife?"</p> + +<p>"I should never do that in this dress," interrupted the millionaire in a +sharp tone. "My wife would then know my true name and birth. I wish to +keep that from her, although there is nothing disgraceful in the secret. +I wonder why you say that?" he said, looking searchingly at the little +man.</p> + +<p>"Only because Lambert is in the—"</p> + +<p>"Lambert! Lambert! You are always harping on Lambert."</p> + +<p>"I have your interest at heart."</p> + +<p>Pine laughed doubtfully. "I am not so sure of that. Self-interest +rather. I trust my wife—"</p> + +<p>"You do, since you make me spy on her," said Silver caustically.</p> + +<p>"I trust my wife so far," pursued the other man, "if you will permit me +to finish my sentence. There is no need for her to see her cousin, +and—as they have kept apart for so long—I don't think there is any +chance of their seeking one another's company."</p> + +<p>"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," remarked the secretary +sententiously. "And you may be living in a fool's paradise. Lambert is +within running-away distance of her, remember."</p> + +<p>Pine laughed in a raucous manner. "An elopement would have taken place +long ago had it been intended," he snapped tartly. "Don't imagine +impossibilities, Mark. Agnes married me for my money, so that I might +save the credit of the Lambert family. But for me, Garvington would have +passed through the Bankruptcy Court long ago. I have paid off certain +mortgages, but I hold them as security for my wife's good behavior. She +knows that an elopement with her cousin would mean the ruin of her +brother."</p> + +<p>"You do, indeed, trust her," observed Silver sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"I trust her so far and no further," repeated Pine with an angry snarl. +"A Gentile she is, and Gentiles are tricky." He stretched out a slim, +brown hand significantly and opened it. "I hold her and Garvington +there," and he tapped the palm lightly.</p> + +<p>"You don't hold Lambert, and he is the dangerous one."</p> + +<p>"Only dangerous if Agnes consents to run away with him, and she won't do +that," replied Pine coolly.</p> + +<p>"Well, she certainly doesn't care for money."</p> + +<p>"She cares for the credit of her family, and gave herself to me, so that +the same might be saved."</p> + +<p>Silver shrugged his narrow shoulders. "What fools these aristocrats +are," he observed pleasantly. "Even if Garvington were sold up he would +still have his title and enough to live on in a quiet way."</p> + +<p>"Probably. But it was not entirely to save his estates that he agreed to +my marriage with his sister," said Pine pointedly and quietly.</p> + +<p>"Eh! What?" The little man's foxy face became alive with eager inquiry.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Pine roughly, and rose heavily to his feet. "Mind your +own infernal business, and mine also. Go back and show that letter to +Garvington. I want my tribe to stay here."</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> tribe," laughed Silver, scrambling to his feet; and when he took +his departure he was still laughing. He wondered what Garvington would +say did he know that his sister was married to a full-blooded Romany.</p> + +<p>Pine, in the character of a horse-coper, saw him out of the camp, and +was staring after him when Chaldea, on the watch, touched his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I come to your tent, brother," she said with very bright eyes.</p> + +<p>"Eh? Yes!" Pine aroused himself out of a brown study. "Avali, miri pen. +You have things to say to me?"</p> + +<p>"Golden things, which have to do with your happiness and mine, brother."</p> + +<p>"Hai? A wedding-ring, sister."</p> + +<p>"Truly, brother, if you be a true Romany and not the Gentile you call +yourself."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII" />CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>AT MIDNIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>Silver's delivery of his employer's orders to Lord Garvington were +apparently carried out, for no further intimation was given to the +gypsies that they were to vacate Abbot's Wood. The master of The Manor +grumbled a good deal at the high tone taken by his brother-in-law, as, +having the instincts of a landlord, he strongly objected to the presence +of such riff-raff on his estates. However, as Pine had the whip-hand of +him, he was obliged to yield, although he could not understand why the +man should favor the Romany in this way.</p> + +<p>"Some of his infernal philanthropy, I suppose," said Garvington, in a +tone of disgust, to the secretary. "Pine's always doing this sort of +thing, and people ain't a bit grateful."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Silver dryly, "I suppose that's his look-out."</p> + +<p>"If it is, let him keep to his own side of the road," retorted the +other. "Since I don't interfere with his business, let him not meddle +with mine."</p> + +<p>"As he holds the mortgage and can foreclose at any moment, it <i>is</i> his +business," insisted Silver tartly. "And, after all, the gypsies are +doing no very great harm."</p> + +<p>"They will if they get the chance. I'd string up the whole lot if I had +my way, Silver. Poachers and blackguards every one of them. I know that +Pine is always helping rotters in London, but I didn't know that he had +any cause to interfere with this lot. How did he come to know about +them?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Lambert might have told him," answered the secretary, not +unwilling to draw that young man into the trouble. "He is at Abbot's +Wood."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I lent him the cottage, and this is my reward. He meddles with my +business along with Pine. Why can't he shut his mouth?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that Mr. Lambert did tell him, but he might have done so."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure that he did," said Garvington emphatically, and growing +red all over his chubby face. "Otherwise Pine would never have heard, +since he is in Paris. I shall speak to Lambert."</p> + +<p>"You won't find him at home. I looked in at his cottage to pass the +time, and his housekeeper said that he had gone to London all of a +sudden, this very evening."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he'll turn up again," said Garvington carelessly. "He's sick of +town, Silver, since—" The little man hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Since when?" asked the secretary curiously.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," retorted the other gruffly, for he did not wish to mention +the enforced marriage of his sister, to Silver. Of course, there was no +need to, as Garvington, aware that the neat, foxy-faced man was his +brother-in-law's confidential adviser, felt sure that everything was +known to him. "I'll leave those blamed gypsies alone meanwhile," +finished Garvington, changing and finishing the conversation. "But I'll +speak to Pine when I see him."</p> + +<p>"He returns from Paris in three weeks," remarked Silver, at which +information the gross little lord simply hunched his fat shoulders. Much +as Pine had done for him, Garvington hated the man with all the power of +his mean and narrow mind, and as the millionaire returned this dislike +with a feeling of profound contempt, the two met as seldom as possible. +Only Lady Agnes was the link between them, the visible object of sale +and barter, which had been sold by one to the other.</p> + +<p>It was about this time that the house-party at The Manor began to break +up; since it was now the first week in September, and many of the +shooters wished to go north for better sport. Many of the men departed, +and some of the women, who were due at other country houses; but Mrs. +Belgrove and Miss Greeby still remained. The first because she found +herself extremely comfortable, and appreciated Garvington's cook; and +the second on account of Lambert being in the vicinity. Miss Greeby had +been very disappointed to learn that the young man had gone to London, +but heard from Mrs. Tribb that he was expected back in three days. She +therefore lingered so as to have another conversation with him, and +meanwhile haunted the gypsy camp for the purpose of keeping an eye on +Chaldea, who was much too beautiful for her peace of mind. Sometimes +Silver accompanied her, as the lady had given him to understand that she +knew Pine's real rank and name, so the two were made free of the +Bohemians and frequently chatted with Ishmael Hearne. But they kept his +secret, as did Chaldea; and Garvington had no idea that the man he +dreaded and hated—who flung money to him as if he were tossing a bone +to a dog—was within speaking distance. If he had known, he would +assuredly have guessed the reason why Sir Hubert Pine had interested +himself in the doings of a wandering tribe of undesirable creatures.</p> + +<p>A week passed away and still, although Miss Greeby made daily inquiries, +Lambert did not put in an appearance at the forest cottage. Thinking +that he had departed to escape her, she made up her impatient mind to +repair to London, and to hunt him up at his club. With this idea she +intimated to Lady Garvington that she was leaving The Manor early next +morning. The ladies had just left the dinner-table, and were having +coffee in the drawing-room when Miss Greeby made this abrupt +announcement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear," said Lady Garvington, in dismay. "I wish you would change +your mind. Nearly everyone has gone, and the house is getting quite +dull."</p> + +<p>"Thanks ever so much," remarked Mrs. Belgrove lightly. She sat near the +fire, for the evening was chilly, and what with paint and powder, and +hair-dye, to say nothing of her artistic and carefully chosen dress, +looked barely thirty-five in the rosy lights cast by the shaded lamps.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean you, dear," murmured the hostess, who was even more untidy +and helpless than usual. "You are quite a host in yourself. And that +recipe you gave me for Patagonian soup kept Garvington in quite a good +humor for ever so long. But the house will be dull for you without +Clara."</p> + +<p>"Agnes is here, Jane."</p> + +<p>"I fear Agnes is not much of an entertainer," said that lady, smiling in +a weary manner, for this society chatter bored her greatly.</p> + +<p>"That's not to be wondered at," struck in Miss Greeby abruptly. "For of +course you are thinking of your husband."</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes colored slightly under Miss Greeby's very direct gaze, but +replied equably enough, to save appearances, "He is still in Paris."</p> + +<p>"When did you last hear from him, dear?" questioned Lady Garvington, +more to manufacture conversation than because she really cared.</p> + +<p>"Only to-day I had a letter. He is carrying out some special business +and will return in two or three weeks."</p> + +<p>"You will be glad to see him, no doubt," sneered Miss Greeby.</p> + +<p>"I am always glad to see my husband and to be with him," answered Lady +Agnes in a dignified manner. She knew perfectly well that Miss Greeby +hated her, and guessed the reason, but she was not going to give her any +satisfaction by revealing the true feelings of her heart.</p> + +<p>"Well, I intend to stay here, Jane, if it's all the same to you," cried +Mrs. Belgrove in her liveliest manner and with a side glance, taking in +both Miss Greeby and Lady Agnes. "Only this morning I received a +chit-chat letter from Mr. Lambert—we are great friends you know—saying +that he intended to come here for a few days. Such a delightful man he +is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me, yes," cried Lady Garvington, starting. "I remember. He +wrote yesterday from London, asking if he might come. I told him yes, +although I mentioned that we had hardly anyone with us just now."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby looked greatly annoyed, as Mrs. Belgrove maliciously saw, +for she knew well that the heiress would now regret having so hastily +intimated her approaching departure. What was the expression on Lady +Agnes's face, the old lady could not see, for the millionaire's wife +shielded it—presumably from the fire—with a large fan of white +feathers. Had Mrs. Belgrove been able to read that countenance she would +have seen satisfaction written thereon, and would probably have set down +the expression to a wrong cause. In reality, Agnes was glad to think +that Lambert's promise was being kept, and that he no longer intended to +avoid her company so openly.</p> + +<p>But if she was pleased, Miss Greeby was not, and still continued to look +annoyed, since she had burnt her boats by announcing her departure. And +what annoyed her still more than her hasty decision was, that she would +leave Lambert in the house along with the rival she most dreaded. Though +what the young man could see in this pale, washed-out creature Miss +Greeby could not imagine. She glanced at a near mirror and saw her own +opulent, full-blown looks clothed in a pale-blue dinner-gown, which went +so well—as she inartistically decided, with her ruddy locks, Mrs. +Belgrove considered that Miss Greeby looked like a paint-box, or a +sunset, or one of Turner's most vivid pictures, but the heiress was very +well pleased with herself. Lady Agnes, in her favorite white, with her +pale face and serious looks, was but a dull person of the nun +persuasion. And Miss Greeby did not think that Lambert cared for nuns, +when he had an Amazonian intelligent pal—so she put it—at hand. But, +of course, he might prefer dark beauties like Chaldea. Poor Miss Greeby; +she was pursuing her wooing under very great difficulties, and became +silent in order to think out some way of revoking in some natural +manner the information of her departure.</p> + +<p>There were other women in the room, who joined in the conversation, and +all were glad to hear that Mr. Lambert intended to pay a visit to his +cousin, for, indeed, the young man was a general favorite. And then as +two or three decided—Mrs. Belgrove amongst the number—there really +could be nothing in the report that he loved Lady Agnes still, else he +would scarcely come and stay where she was. As for Pine's wife, she was +a washed-out creature, who had never really loved her cousin as people +had thought. And after all, why should she, since he was so poor, +especially when she was married to a millionaire with the looks of an +Eastern prince, and manners of quite an original nature, although these +were not quite conventional. Oh, yes, there was nothing in the scandal +that said Garvington had sold his sister to bolster up the family +property. Lady Agnes was quite happy, and her husband was a dear man, +who left her a great deal to her own devices—which he wouldn't have +done had he suspected the cousin; and who gave her pots of money to +spend. And what more could a sensible woman want?</p> + +<p>In this way those in the drawing-room babbled, while Agnes stared into +the fire, bracing herself to encounter Lambert, who would surely arrive +within the next two or three days, and while Miss Greeby savagely +rebuked herself for having so foolishly intimated her departure. Then +the men straggled in from their wine, and bridge became the order of the +night with some, while others begged for music. After a song or so and +the execution of a Beethoven sonata, to which no one paid any attention, +a young lady gave a dance after the manner of Maud Allan, to which +everyone attended. Then came feats of strength, in which Miss Greeby +proved herself to be a female Sandow, and later a number of the guests +sojourned to the billiard-room to play. When they grew weary of that, +tobogganing down the broad staircase on trays was suggested and indulged +in amidst shrieks of laughter. Afterwards, those heated by this +horse-play strayed on to the terrace to breathe the fresh air, and flirt +in the moonlight. In fact, every conceivable way of passing the time was +taken advantage of by these very bored people, who scarcely knew how to +get through the long evening.</p> + +<p>"They seem to be enjoying themselves, Freddy," said Lady Garvington to +her husband, when she drifted against him in the course of attending to +her guests. "I really think they find this jolly."</p> + +<p>"I don't care a red copper what they find," retorted the little man, who +was looking worried, and not quite his usual self. "I wish the whole lot +would get out of the house. I'm sick of them."</p> + +<p>"Ain't you well, Freddy? I knew that Patagonian soup was too rich for +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the soup was all right—ripping soup," snorted Freddy, smacking his +lips over the recollection. "But I'm bothered over Pine."</p> + +<p>"He isn't ill, is he?" questioned Lady Garvington anxiously. She liked +her brother-in-law, who was always kind to her.</p> + +<p>"No, hang him; nothing worse than his usual lung trouble, I suppose. But +he is in Paris, and won't answer my letters."</p> + +<p>"Letters, Freddy dear."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jane dear," he mocked. "Hang it, I want money, and he won't stump +up. I can't even get an answer."</p> + +<p>"Speak to Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"Damn Mr. Silver!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure, Frederick, you needn't swear at me," said poor, wan +Lady Garvington, drawing herself up. "Mr. Silver is very kind. He went +to that gypsy camp and found out how they cook hedgehog. That will be a +new dish for you, dear. You haven't eaten hedgehog."</p> + +<p>"No. And what's more, I don't intend to eat it. But you may as well tell +me how these gypsies cook it," and Freddy listened with both his red +ears to the description, on hearing which he decided that his wife +might instruct the cook how to prepare the animal. "But no one will eat +it but me."</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington shuddered. "I shan't touch it myself. Those horrid +snails you insisted on being cooked a week ago made me quite ill. You +are always trying new experiments, Freddy."</p> + +<p>"Because I get so tired of every-day dishes," growled Lord Garvington. +"These cooks have no invention. I wish I'd lived in Rome when they had +those banquets you read of in Gibbon."</p> + +<p>"Did he write a book on cookery?" asked Lady Garvington very naturally.</p> + +<p>"No. He turned out a lot of dull stuff about wars and migrations of +tribes: you are silly, Jane."</p> + +<p>"What's that about migration of tribes?" asked Mrs. Belgrove, who was in +a good humor, as she had won largely at bridge. "You don't mean those +dear gypsies at Abbot's Wood do you, Lord Garvington? I met one of them +the other day—quite a girl and very pretty in a dark way. She told my +fortune, and said that I would come in for a lot of money. I'm sure I +hope so," sighed Mrs. Belgrove. "Celestine is so expensive, but no one +can fit me like she can. And she knows it, and takes advantage, the +horrid creature."</p> + +<p>"I wish the tribe of gypsies would clear out," snapped Freddy, standing +before the fire and glaring at the company generally. "I know they'll +break in here and rob."</p> + +<p>"Well," drawled Silver, who was hovering near, dressed so carefully that +he looked more of a foxy, neat bounder than ever. "I have noticed that +some of the brutes have been sneaking round the place."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belgrove shrieked. "Oh, how lucky I occupy a bedroom on the third +floor. Just like a little bird in its tiny-weeny nest. They can't get at +me there, can they, Lord Garvington?"</p> + +<p>"They don't want you," observed Miss Greeby in her deep voice. "It's +your diamonds they'd like to get."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Mrs. Belgrove shrieked again. "Lock my diamonds up in your strong +room, Lord Garvington. Do! do! do! To please poor little me," and she +effusively clasped her lean hands, upon which many of the said diamonds +glittered.</p> + +<p>"I don't think there is likely to be any trouble with these poor +gypsies, Mrs. Belgrove," remarked Lady Agnes negligently. "Hubert has +told me a great deal about them, and they are really not so bad as +people make out."</p> + +<p>"Your husband can't know anything of such ragtags," said Miss Greeby, +looking at the beautiful, pale face, and wondering if she really had any +suspicion that Pine was one of the crew she mentioned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Hubert does," answered Lady Agnes innocently. "He has met many +of them when he has been out helping people. You have no idea, any of +you, how good Hubert is," she added, addressing the company generally. +"He walks on the Embankment sometimes on winter nights and gives the +poor creatures money. And in the country I have often seen him stop to +hand a shilling to some tramp in the lanes."</p> + +<p>"A gypsy for choice," growled Miss Greeby, marvelling that Lady Agnes +could not see the resemblance between the tramps' faces and that of her +own husband. "However, I hope Pine's darlings won't come here to rob. +I'll fight for my jewels, I can promise you."</p> + +<p>One of the men laughed. "I shouldn't like to get a blow from your fist."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby smiled grimly, and looked at his puny stature. "Women have +to protect themselves from men like you," she said, amidst great +laughter, for the physical difference between her and the man was quite +amusing.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well talking," said Garvington crossly. "But I don't +trust these gypsies."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you clear them off your land then?" asked Silver daringly.</p> + +<p>Garvington glared until his gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his red +face. "I'll clear everyone to bed, that's what I'll do," he retorted, +crossing the room to the middle French window of the drawing-room. "I +wish you fellows would stop your larking out there," he cried. "It's +close upon midnight, and all decent people should be in bed."</p> + +<p>"Since when have you joined the Methodists, Garvington?" asked an +officer who had come over from some twelve-mile distant barracks to pass +the night, and a girl behind him began to sing a hymn.</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes frowned. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Miss Ardale," she +said in sharp rebuke, and the girl had the sense to be silent, while +Garvington fussed over the closing of the window shutters.</p> + +<p>"Going to stand a siege?" asked Miss Greeby, laughing. "Or do you expect +burglars, particularly on this night."</p> + +<p>"I don't expect them at all," retorted the little man. "But I tell you I +hate the idea of these lawless gypsies about the place. Still, if anyone +comes," he added grimly, "I shall shoot."</p> + +<p>"Then the attacking person or party needn't bother," cried the officer. +"I shouldn't mind standing up to your fire, myself, Garvington."</p> + +<p>With laughter and chatter and much merriment at the host's expense, the +guests went their several ways, the women to chat in one another's +dressing-rooms and the men to have a final smoke and a final drink. +Garvington, with two footmen, and his butler, went round the house, +carefully closing all the shutters, and seeing that all was safe. His +sister rather marvelled at this excessive precaution, and said as much +to her hostess.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't matter if the gypsies did break in," she said when alone +with Lady Garvington in her own bedroom. "It would be some excitement, +for all these people must find it very dull here."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I do my best, Agnes," said the sister-in-law plaintively.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you do, you poor dear," said the other, kissing her. "But +Garvington always asks people here who haven't two ideas. A horrid, +rowdy lot they are. I wonder you stand it."</p> + +<p>"Garvington asks those he likes, Agnes."</p> + +<p>"I see. He hasn't any brains, and his guests suit him for the same +reason."</p> + +<p>"They eat a great deal," wailed Lady Garvington. "I'm sure I might as +well be a cook. All my time is taken up with feeding them."</p> + +<p>"Well, Freddy married you, Jane, because you had a genius for looking +after food. Your mother was much the same; she always kept a good +table." Lady Agnes laughed. "Yours was a most original wooing, Jane."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to live on bread and water for my part, Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Put Freddy on it, dear. He's getting too stout. I never thought that +gluttony was a crime. But when I look at Freddy"—checking her speech, +she spread out her hands with an ineffable look—"I'm glad that Noel is +coming," she ended, rather daringly. "At least he will be more +interesting than any of these frivolous people you have collected."</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington looked at her anxiously. "You don't mind Noel coming?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear. Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"Well you see, Agnes, I fancied—"</p> + +<p>"Don't fancy anything. Noel and I entirely understand one another."</p> + +<p>"I hope," blurted out the other woman, "that it is a right +understanding?"</p> + +<p>Agnes winced, and looked at her with enforced composure. "I am devoted +to my husband," she said, with emphasis. "And I have every reason to be. +He has kept his part of the bargain, so I keep mine. But," she added +with a pale smile, "when I think how I sold myself to keep up the credit +of the family, and now see Freddy entertaining this riff-raff, I am +sorry that I did not marry Noel, whom I loved so dearly."</p> + +<p>"That would have meant our ruin," bleated Lady Garvington, sadly.</p> + +<p>"Your ruin is only delayed, Jane. Freddy is a weak, self-indulgent fool, +and is eating his way into the next world. It will be a happy day for +you when an apoplectic fit makes you a widow."</p> + +<p>"My dear," the wife was shocked, "he is your brother."</p> + +<p>"More's the pity. I have no illusions about Freddy, Jane, and I don't +think you have either. Now, go away and sleep. It's no use lying awake +thinking over to-morrow's dinner. Give Freddy the bread and water you +talked about."</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington laughed in a weak, aimless way, and then kissed her +sister-in-law with a sigh, after which she drifted out of the room in +her usual vague manner. Very shortly the clock over the stables struck +midnight, and by that time Garvington the virtuous had induced all his +men guests to go to bed. The women chatted a little longer, and then, in +their turn, sought repose. By half-past twelve the great house was in +complete darkness, and bulked a mighty mass of darkness in the pale +September moonlight.</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes got to bed quickly, and tired out by the boredom of the +evening, quickly fell asleep. Suddenly she awoke with all her senses on +the alert, and with a sense of vague danger hovering round. There were +sounds of running feet and indistinct oaths and distant cries, and she +could have sworn that a pistol-shot had startled her from slumber. In a +moment she was out of bed and ran to open her window. On looking out +she saw that the moonlight was very brilliant, and in it beheld a tall +man running swiftly from the house. He sped down the broad path, and +just when he was abreast of a miniature shrubbery, she heard a second +shot, which seemed to be fired there-from. The man staggered, and +stumbled and fell. Immediately afterwards, her brother—she recognized +his voice raised in anger—ran out of the house, followed by some of the +male guests. Terrified by the sight and the sound of the shots, Lady +Agnes huddled on her dressing-gown hastily, and thrust her bare feet +into slippers. The next moment she was out of her bedroom and down the +stairs. A wild idea had entered her mind that perhaps Lambert had come +secretly to The Manor, and had been shot by Garvington in mistake for a +burglar. The corridors and the hall were filled with guests more or less +lightly attired, mostly women, white-faced and startled. Agnes paid no +attention to their shrieks, but hurried into the side passage which +terminated at the door out of which her brother had left the house. She +went outside also and made for the group round the fallen man.</p> + +<p>"What is it? who is it?" she asked, gasping with the hurry and the +fright.</p> + +<p>"Go back, Agnes, go back," cried Garvington, looking up with a distorted +face, strangely pale in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"But who is it? who has been killed?" She caught sight of the fallen +man's countenance and shrieked. "Great heavens! it is Hubert; is he +dead?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Silver, who stood at her elbow. "Shot through the heart."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX" />CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>AFTERWARDS.</h3> + + +<p>With amazing and sinister rapidity the news spread that a burglar had +been shot dead while trying to raid The Manor. First, the Garvington +villagers learned it; then it became the common property of the +neighborhood, until it finally reached the nearest county town, and thus +brought the police on the scene. Lord Garvington was not pleased when +the local inspector arrived, and intimated as much in a somewhat +unpleasant fashion. He was never a man who spared those in an inferior +social position.</p> + +<p>"It is no use your coming over, Darby," he said bluntly to the +red-haired police officer, who was of Irish extraction. "I have sent to +Scotland Yard."</p> + +<p>"All in good time, my lord," replied the inspector coolly. "As the +murder has taken place in my district I have to look into the matter, +and report to the London authorities, if it should be necessary."</p> + +<p>"What right have you to class the affair as a murder?" inquired +Garvington.</p> + +<p>"I only go by the rumors I have heard, my lord. Some say that you winged +the man and broke his right arm. Others tell me that a second shot was +fired in the garden, and it was that which killed Ishmael Hearne."</p> + +<p>"It is true, Darby. I only fired the first shot, as those who were with +me will tell you. I don't know who shot in the garden, and apparently no +one else does. It was this unknown individual in the garden that killed +Hearne. By the way, how did you come to hear the name?"</p> + +<p>"Half a dozen people have told me, my lord, along with the information I +have just given you. Nothing else is talked of far and wide."</p> + +<p>"And it is just twelve o'clock," muttered the stout little lord, wiping +his scarlet face pettishly. "Ill news travels fast. However, as you are +here, you may as well take charge of things until the London men +arrive."</p> + +<p>"The London men aren't going to usurp my privileges, my lord," said +Darby, firmly. "There's no sense in taking matters out of my hands. And +if you will pardon my saying so, I should have been sent for in the +first instance."</p> + +<p>"I daresay," snapped Garvington, coolly. "But the matter is too +important to be left in the hands of a local policeman."</p> + +<p>Darby was nettled, and his hard eyes grew angry. "I am quite competent +to deal with any murder, even if it is that of the highest in England, +much less with the death of a common gypsy."</p> + +<p>"That's just where it is, Darby. The common gypsy who has been shot +happens to be my brother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert Pine?" questioned the inspector, thoroughly taken aback.</p> + +<p>"Yes! Of course I didn't know him when I fired, or I should not have +done so, Darby. I understood, and his wife, my sister, understood, that +Sir Hubert was in Paris. It passes my comprehension to guess why he +should have come in the dead of night, dressed as a gypsy, to raid my +house."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was a bet," said Darby, desperately puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Bet, be hanged! Pine could come openly to this place whenever he liked. +I never was so astonished in my life as when I saw him lying dead near +the shrubbery. And the worst of it is, that my sister ran out and saw +him also. She fainted and has been in bed ever since, attended by Lady +Garvington."</p> + +<p>"You had no idea that the man you shot was Sir Hubert, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Hang it, no! Would I have shot him had I guessed who he was?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, my lord! of course not," said the officer hastily. "But as +I have come to take charge of the case, you will give me a detailed +account of what has taken place."</p> + +<p>"I would rather wait until the Scotland Yard fellows come," grumbled +Garvington, "as I don't wish to repeat my story twice. Still, as you are +on the spot, I may as well ask your advice. You may be able to throw +some light on the subject. I'm hanged if I can."</p> + +<p>Darby pulled out his notebook. "I am all attention, my lord."</p> + +<p>Garvington plunged abruptly into his account, first having looked to see +if the library door was firmly closed. "As there have been many +burglaries lately in this part of the world," he said, speaking with +deliberation, "I got an idea into my head that this house might be +broken into."</p> + +<p>"Natural enough, my lord," interposed Darby, glancing round the splendid +room. "A historic house such as this is, would tempt any burglar."</p> + +<p>"So I thought," remarked the other, pleased that Darby should agree with +him so promptly. "And I declared several times, within the hearing of +many people, that if a raid was made, I should shoot the first man who +tried to enter. Hang it, an Englishman's house is his castle, and no man +has a right to come in without permission."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my lord. But the punishment of the burglar should be left to +the law," said the inspector softly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the deuce take the law! I prefer to execute my own punishments. +However, to make a long story short, I grew more afraid of a raid when +these gypsies came to camp at Abbot's Wood, as they are just the sort of +scoundrels who would break in and steal."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you order them off your land?" asked the policeman, alertly.</p> + +<p>"I did, and then my brother-in-law sent a message through his secretary, +who is staying here, asking me to allow them to remain. I did."</p> + +<p>"Why did Sir Hubert send that message, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Hang it, man, that's just what I am trying to learn, and I am the more +puzzled because he came last night dressed as a gypsy."</p> + +<p>"He must be one," said Darby, who had seen Pine and now recalled his +dark complexion and jetty eyes. "It seems, from what I have been told, +that he stopped at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael +Hearne."</p> + +<p>"So Silver informed me."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Pine's secretary, who knows all his confidential affairs. Silver +declared, when the secret could be kept no longer, that Pine was really +a gypsy, called Ishmael Hearne. Occasionally longing for the old life, +he stepped down from his millionaire pedestal and mixed with his own +people. When he was supposed to be in Paris, he was really with the +gypsies, so you can now understand why he sent the message asking me to +let these vagrants stay."</p> + +<p>"You told me a few moments ago, that you could not understand that +message, my lord," said Darby quickly, and looking searchingly at the +other man. Garvington grew a trifle confused. "Did I? Well, to tell you +the truth, Darby, I'm so mixed up over the business that I can't say +what I do know, or what I don't know. You'd better take all I tell you +with a grain of salt until I am quite myself again."</p> + +<p>"Natural enough, my lord," remarked the inspector again, and quite +believed what he said. "And the details of the murder?"</p> + +<p>"I went to bed as usual," said Garvington, wearily, for the events of +the night had tired him out, "and everyone else retired some time about +midnight. I went round with the footmen and the butler to see that +everything was safe, for I was too anxious to let them look after things +without me. Then I heard a noise of footsteps on the gravel outside, +just as I was dropping off to sleep—"</p> + +<p>"About what time was that, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Half-past one o'clock; I can't be certain as to a minute. I jumped up +and laid hold of my revolver, which was handy. I always kept it beside +me in case of a burglary. Then I stole downstairs in slippers and +pajamas to the passage,—oh, here." Garvington rose quickly. "Come with +me and see the place for yourself!"</p> + +<p>Inspector Darby put on his cap, and with his notebook still in his hand, +followed the stout figure of his guide. Garvington led him through the +entrance hall and into a side-passage, which terminated in a narrow +door. There was no one to spy on them, as the master of the house had +sent all the servants to their own quarters, and the guests were +collected in the drawing-room and smoking-room, although a few of the +ladies remained in their bedrooms, trying to recover from the night's +experience.</p> + +<p>"I came down here," said Garvington, opening the door, "and heard the +burglar, as I thought he was, prowling about on the other side. I threw +open the door in this way and the man plunged forward to enter. I fired, +and got him in the right arm, for I saw it swinging uselessly by his +side as he departed."</p> + +<p>"Was he in a hurry?" asked Darby, rather needlessly.</p> + +<p>"He went off like greased lightning. I didn't follow, as I thought that +others of his gang might be about, but closing the door again I shouted +blue murder. In a few minutes everyone came down, and while I was +waiting—it all passed in a flash, remember, Darby—I heard a second +shot. Then the servants and my friends came and we ran out, to find the +man lying by that shrubbery quite dead. I turned him over and had just +grasped the fact that he was my brother-in-law, when Lady Agnes ran out. +When she learned the news she naturally fainted. The women carried her +back to her room, and we took the body of Pine into the house. A doctor +came along this morning—for I sent for a doctor as soon as it was +dawn—and said that Pine had been shot through the heart."</p> + +<p>"And who shot him?" asked Darby sagely.</p> + +<p>Garvington pointed to the shrubbery. "Someone was concealed there," he +declared.</p> + +<p>"How do you know, that, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"My sister, attracted by my shot, jumped out of bed and threw up her +window. She saw the man—of course she never guessed that he was +Pine—running down the path and saw him fall by the shrubbery when the +second shot was fired."</p> + +<p>"Her bedroom is then on this side of the house, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Up there," said Garvington, pointing directly over the narrow door, +which was painted a rich blue color, and looked rather bizarre, set in +the puritanic greyness of the walls. "My own bedroom is further along +towards the right. That is why I heard the footsteps so plainly on this +gravel." And he stamped hard, while with a wave of his hand he invited +the inspector to examine the surroundings.</p> + +<p>Darby did so with keen eyes and an alert brain. The two stood on the +west side of the mansion, where it fronted the three-miles distant +Abbot's Wood. The Manor was a heterogeneous-looking sort of place, +suggesting the whims and fancies of many generations, for something was +taken away here, and something was taken away there, and this had been +altered, while that had been left in its original state, until the house +seemed to be made up of all possible architectural styles. It was a tall +building of three stories, although the flattish red-tiled roofs took +away somewhat from its height, and spread over an amazing quantity of +land. As Darby thought, it could have housed a regiment, and must have +cost something to keep up. As wind and weather and time had mellowed its +incongruous parts into one neutral tint, it looked odd and attractive. +Moss and lichen, ivy and Virginia creeper—this last flaring in crimson +glory—clothed the massive stone walls with a gracious mantle of natural +beauty. Narrow stone steps, rather chipped, led down from the blue door +to the broad, yellow path, which came round the rear of the house and +swept down hill in a wide curve, past the miniature shrubbery, right +into the bosom of the park.</p> + +<p>"This path," explained Garvington, stamping again, "runs right through +the park to a small wicket gate set in the brick wall, which borders the +high road, Darby."</p> + +<p>"And that runs straightly past Abbot's Wood," mused the inspector. "Of +course, Sir Hubert would know of the path and the wicket gate?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; don't be an ass, Darby," cried Garvington petulantly. "He +has been in this house dozens of times and knows it as well as I do +myself. Why do you ask so obvious a question?"</p> + +<p>"I was only wondering if Sir Hubert came by the high road to the wicket +gate you speak of, Lord Garvington."</p> + +<p>"That also is obvious," retorted the other, irritably. "Since he wished +to come here, he naturally would take the easiest way."</p> + +<p>"Then why did he not enter by the main avenue gates?"</p> + +<p>"Because at that hour they would be shut, and—since it is evident that +his visit was a secret one—he would have had to knock up the +lodge-keeper."</p> + +<p>"Why was his visit a secret one?" questioned Darby pointedly.</p> + +<p>"That is the thing that puzzles me. Anything more?"</p> + +<p>"Yes? Why should Sir Hubert come to the blue door?"</p> + +<p>"I can't answer that question, either. The whole reason of his being +here, instead of in Paris, is a mystery to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that last, the reply is easy," remarked the inspector. "Sir +Hubert wished to revert to his free gypsy life, and pretended to be in +Paris, so that he would follow his fancy without the truth becoming +known. But why he should come on this particular night, and by this +particular path to this particular door, is the problem I have to +solve!"</p> + +<p>"Quite so, and I only hope that you will solve it, for the sake of my +sister."</p> + +<p>Darby reflected for a moment or so. "Did Lady Agnes ask her husband to +come here to see her privately?"</p> + +<p>"Hang it, no man!" cried Garvington, aghast. "She believed, as we all +did, that her husband was in Paris, and certainly never dreamed that he +was masquerading as a gypsy three miles away."</p> + +<p>"There was no masquerading about the matter, my lord," said Darby, +dryly; "since Sir Hubert really was a gypsy called Ishmael Hearne. That +fact will come out at the inquest."</p> + +<p>"It has come out now: everyone knows the truth. And a nice thing it is +for me and Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need worry about that, Lord Garvington. The honorable +way in which the late Sir Hubert attained rank and gained wealth will +reflect credit on his humble origin. When the papers learn the story—"</p> + +<p>"Confound the papers!" interrupted Garvington fretfully. "I sincerely +hope that they won't make too great a fuss over the business."</p> + +<p>The little man's hope was vain, as he might have guessed that it would +be, for when the news became known in Fleet Street, the newspapers were +only too glad to discover an original sensation for the dead season. +Every day journalists and special correspondents were sent down in such +numbers that the platform of Wanbury Railway Station was crowded with +them. As the town—it was the chief town of Hengishire—was five miles +away from the village of Garvington, every possible kind of vehicle was +used to reach the scene of the crime, and The Manor became a rendezvous +for all the morbid people, both in the neighborhood and out of it. The +reporters in particular poked and pried all over the place, passing from +the great house to the village, and thence to the gypsy camp on the +borders of Abbot's Wood. From one person and another they learned facts, +which were published with such fanciful additions that they read like +fiction. On the authority of Mother Cockleshell—who was not averse to +earning a few shillings—a kind of Gil Blas tale was put into print, and +the wanderings of Ishmael Hearne were set forth in the picturesque style +of a picarooning romance. But of the time when the adventurous gypsy +assumed his Gentile name, the Romany could tell nothing, for obvious +reasons. Until the truth became known, because of the man's tragic and +unforeseen death, those in the camp were not aware that he was a Gorgio +millionaire. But where the story of Mother Cockleshell left off, that of +Mark Silver began, for the secretary had been connected with his +employer almost from the days of Hearne's first exploits as Pine in +London. And Silver—who also charged for the blended fact and fiction +which he supplied—freely related all he knew.</p> + +<p>"Hearne came to London and called himself Hubert Pine," he stated +frankly, and not hesitating to confess his own lowly origin. "We met +when I was starving as a toymaker in Whitechapel. I invented some penny +toys, which Pine put on the market for me. They were successful and he +made money. I am bound to confess that he paid me tolerably well, +although he certainly took the lion's share. With the money he made in +this way, he speculated in South African shares, and, as the boom was +then on, he simply coined gold. Everything he touched turned into cash, +and however deeply he plunged into the money market, he always came out +top in the end. By turning over his money and re-investing it, and by +fresh speculations, he became a millionaire in a wonderfully short space +of time. Then he made me his secretary and afterwards took up politics. +The Government gave him a knighthood for services rendered to his party, +and he became a well-known figure in the world of finance. He married +Lady Agnes Lambert, and—and—that's all."</p> + +<p>"You were aware that he was a gypsy, Mr. Silver?" asked the reporter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I knew all about his origin from the first days of our +acquaintanceship. He asked me to keep his true name and rank secret. As +it was none of my business, I did so. At times Hearne—or rather Pine, +as I know him best by that name—grew weary of civilization, and then +would return to his own life of the tent and road. No one suspected +amongst the Romany that he was anything else but a horse-coper. He +always pretended to be in Paris, or Berlin, on financial affairs, when +he went back to his people, and I transacted all business during his +absence."</p> + +<p>"You knew that he was at the Abbot's Wood camp?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I saw him there once or twice to receive instructions about +business. I expostulated with him for being so near the house where his +brother-in-law and wife were living, as I pointed out that the truth +might easily become known. But Pine merely said that his safety in +keeping his secret lay in his daring to run the risk."</p> + +<p>"Have you any idea that Sir Hubert intended to come by night to Lord +Garvington's house?"</p> + +<p>"Not the slightest. In fact, I told him that Lord Garvington was afraid +of burglars, and had threatened to shoot any man who tried to enter the +house."</p> + +<p>All this Silver said in a perfectly frank, free-and-easy manner, and +also related how the dead man had instructed him to ask Garvington to +allow the gypsies to remain in the wood. The reporter published the +interview with sundry comments of his own, and it was read with great +avidity by the public at large and by the many friends of the +millionaire, who were surprised to learn of the double life led by the +man. Of course, there was nothing disgraceful in Pine's past as Ishmael +Hearne, and all attempts to discover something shady about his +antecedents were vain. Yet—as was pointed out—there must have been +something wrong, else the adventurer, as he plainly was, would not have +met so terrible a death. But in spite of every one's desire to find fire +to account for the smoke, nothing to Pine's disadvantage could be +learned. Even at the inquest, and when the matter was thoroughly +threshed out, the dead man's character proved to be honorable, and—save +in the innocent concealment of his real name and origin—his public and +private life was all that could be desired. The whole story was not +criminal, but truly romantic, and the final tragedy gave a grim touch to +what was regarded, even by the most censorious, as a picturesque +narrative.</p> + +<p>In spite of all his efforts, Inspector Darby, of Wanbury, could produce +no evidence likely to show who had shot the deceased. Lord Garvington, +under the natural impression that Pine was a burglar, had certainly +wounded him in the right arm, but it was the second shot, fired by some +one outside the house, which had pierced the heart. This was positively +proved by the distinct evidence of Lady Agnes herself. She rose from her +sick-bed to depose how she had opened her window, and had seen the +actual death of the unfortunate man, whom she little guessed was her +husband. The burglar—as she reasonably took him to be—was running down +the path when she first caught sight of him, and after the first shot +had been fired. It was the second shot, which came from the +shrubbery—marked on the plan placed before the Coroner and jury—which +had laid the fugitive low. Also various guests and servants stated that +they had arrived in the passage in answer to Lord Garvington's outcries, +to find that he had closed the door pending their coming. Some had even +heard the second shot while descending the stairs. It was proved, +therefore, in a very positive manner, that the master of the house had +not murdered the supposed robber.</p> + +<p>"I never intended to kill him," declared Garvington when his evidence +was taken. "All I intended to do, and all I did do, was to wing him, so +that he might be captured on the spot, or traced later. I closed the +door after firing the shot, as I fancied that he might have had some +accomplices with him, and I wished to make myself safe until assistance +arrived."</p> + +<p>"You had no idea that the man was Sir Hubert Pine?" asked a juryman.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I should not have fired had I recognized him. The moment +I opened the door he flung himself upon me. I fired and he ran away. It +was not until we all went out and found him dead by the shrubbery that +I recognized my brother-in-law. I thought he was in Paris."</p> + +<p>Inspector Darby deposed that he had examined the shrubbery, and had +noted broken twigs here and there, which showed that some one must have +been concealed behind the screen of laurels. The grass—somewhat long in +the thicket—had been trampled. But nothing had been discovered likely +to lead to the discovery of the assassin who had been ambushed in this +manner.</p> + +<p>"Are there no footmarks?" questioned the Coroner.</p> + +<p>"There has been no rain for weeks to soften the ground," explained the +witness, "therefore it is impossible to discover any footmarks. The +broken twigs and trampled grass show that some one was hidden in the +shrubbery, but when this person left the screen of laurels, there is +nothing to show in which direction the escape was made."</p> + +<p>And indeed all the evidence was useless to trace the criminal. The Manor +had been bolted and barred by Lord Garvington himself, along with some +footmen and his butler, so no one within could have fired the second +shot. The evidence of Mother Cockleshell, of Chaldea, and of various +other gypsies, went to show that no one had left the camp on that night +with the exception of Hearne, and even his absence had not been made +known until the fact of the death was made public next morning. Hearne, +as several of the gypsies stated, had retired about eleven to his tent +and had said nothing about going to The Manor, much less about leaving +the camp. Silver's statements revealed nothing, since, far from seeking +his brother-in-law's house, Pine, had pointedly declared that in order +to keep his secret he would be careful not to go near the place.</p> + +<p>"And Pine had no enemies to my knowledge who desired his death," +declared the secretary. "We were so intimate that had his life been in +danger he certainly would have spoken about it to me."</p> + +<p>"You can throw no light on the darkness?" asked the Coroner hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"None," said the witness. "Nor, so far as I can see, is any one else +able to throw any light on the subject. Pine's secret was not a +dishonorable one, as he was such an upright man that no one could have +desired to kill him."</p> + +<p>Apparently there was no solution to the mystery, as every one concluded, +when the evidence was fully threshed out. An open verdict was brought +in, and the proceedings ended in this unsatisfactory manner.</p> + +<p>"Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown," said Lambert, +when he read the report of the inquest in his St. James's Street rooms. +"Strange. I wonder who cut the Gordian knot of the rope which bound +Agnes to Pine?"</p> + +<p>He could find no reply to this question, nor could any one else.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X" />CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>A DIFFICULT POSITION.</h3> + + +<p>Lord Garvington was not a creditable member of the aristocracy, since +his vices greatly exceeded his virtues. With a weak nature, and the +tastes of a sybarite, he required a great deal of money to render him +happy. Like the immortal Becky Sharp, he could have been fairly honest +if possessed of a large income; but not having it he stopped short of +nothing save actual criminality in order to indulge his luxurious +tastes to the full. Candidly speaking, he had already overstepped the +mark when he altered the figures of a check his brother-in-law had given +him, and, had not Pine been so generous, he would have undoubtedly +occupied an extremely unpleasant position. However, thanks to Agnes, the +affair had been hushed up, and with characteristic promptitude, +Garvington had conveniently forgotten how nearly he had escaped the iron +grip of Justice. In fact, so entirely did it slip his memory that—on +the plea of Pine's newly discovered origin—he did not desire the body +to be placed in the family vault. But the widow wished to pay this honor +to her husband's remains, and finally got her own way in the matter, for +the simple reason that now she was the owner of Pine's millions +Garvington did not wish to offend her. But, as such a mean creature +would, he made capital out of the concession.</p> + +<p>"Since I do this for you, Agnes," he said bluntly, when the question was +being decided, "you must do something for me."</p> + +<p>"What do you wish me to do?"</p> + +<p>"Ah—hum—hey—ho!" gurgled Garvington, thinking cunningly that it was +too early yet to exploit her. "We can talk about it when the will has +been read, and we know exactly how we stand. Besides your grief is +sacred to me, my dear. Shut yourself up and cry."</p> + +<p>Agnes had a sense of humor, and the blatant hypocrisy of the speech made +her laugh outright in spite of the genuine regret she felt for her +husband's tragic death. Garvington was quite shocked. "Do you forget +that the body is yet in the house?" he asked with heavy solemnity.</p> + +<p>"I don't forget anything," retorted Agnes, becoming scornfully serious. +"Not even that you count on me to settle your wretched financial +difficulties out of poor Hubert's money."</p> + +<p>"Of course you will, my dear. You are a Lambert."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly; but I am not necessarily a fool."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't stop and hear you call yourself such a name," said +Garvington, ostentatiously dense to her true meaning. "It is hysteria +that speaks, and not my dear sister. Very natural when you are so +grieved. We are all mortal."</p> + +<p>"You are certainly silly in addition," replied the widow, who knew how +useless it was to argue with the man. "Go away and don't worry me. When +poor Hubert is buried, and the will is read, I shall announce my +intentions."</p> + +<p>"Intentions! Intentions!" muttered the corpulent little lord, taking a +hasty departure out of diplomacy. "Surely, Agnes won't be such a fool as +to let the family estates go."</p> + +<p>It never struck him that Pine might have so worded the will that the +inheritance he counted upon might not come to the widow, unless she +chose to fulfil a certain condition. But then he never guessed the +jealousy with which the hot-blooded gypsy had regarded the early +engagement of Agnes and Lambert. If he had done so, he assuredly would +not have invited the young man down to the funeral. But he did so, and +talked about doing so, with a frequent mention that the body was to rest +in the sacred vault of the Lamberts so that every one should applaud his +generous humility.</p> + +<p>"Poor Pine was only a gypsy," said Garvington, on all and every +occasion. "But I esteemed him as a good and honest man. He shall have +every honor shown to his memory. Noel and I, as representatives of his +wife, my dear sister, shall follow him to the Lambert vault, and there, +with my ancestors, the body of this honorable, though humble, man shall +rest until the Day of Judgment."</p> + +<p>A cynic in London laughed when the speech was reported to him. "If +Garvington is buried in the same vault," he said contemptuously, "he +will ask Pine for money, as soon as they rise to attend the Great +Assizes!" which bitter remark showed that the little man could not +induce people to believe him so disinterested as he should have liked +them to consider him.</p> + +<p>However, in pursuance of this artful policy, he certainly gave the dead +man, what the landlady of the village inn called, "a dressy funeral." +All that could be done in the way of pomp and ceremony was done, and the +procession which followed Ishmael Hearne to the grave was an +extraordinarily long one. The villagers came because, like all the lower +orders, they loved the excitement of an interment; the gypsies from the +camp followed, since the deceased was of their blood; and many people in +financial and social circles came down from London for the obvious +reason that Pine was a well-known figure in the City and the West End, +and also a member of Parliament. As for Lambert, he put in an +appearance, in response to his cousin's invitation, unwillingly enough, +but in order to convince Agnes that he had every desire to obey her +commands. People could scarcely think that Pine had been jealous of the +early engagement to Agnes, when her former lover attended the funeral of +a successful rival.</p> + +<p>Of course, the house party at The Manor had broken up immediately after +the inquest. It would have disintegrated before only that Inspector +Darby insisted that every one should remain for examination in +connection with the late tragical occurrence. But in spite of +questioning and cross-questioning, nothing had been learned likely to +show who had murdered the millionaire. There was a great deal of talk +after the body had been placed in the Lambert vault, and there was more +talk in the newspapers when an account was given of the funeral. But +neither by word of mouth, nor in print, was any suggestion made likely +to afford the slightest clue to the name or the whereabouts of the +assassin. Having regard to Pine's romantic career, it was thought by +some that the act was one of revenge by a gypsy jealous that the man +should attain to such affluence, while others hinted that the motive +for the crime was to be found in connection with the millionaire's +career as a Gentile. Gradually, as all conjecture proved futile, the +gossip died away, and other events usurped the interest of the public. +Pine, who was really Hearne, had been murdered and buried; his assassin +would never be discovered, since the trail was too well hidden; and Lady +Agnes inherited at least two millions on which she would probably marry +her cousin and so restore the tarnished splendors of the Lambert family. +In this way the situation was summed up by the gossips, and then they +began to talk of something else. The tragedy was only a nine minutes' +wonder after all.</p> + +<p>The gossips both in town and country were certainly right in assuming +that the widow inherited the vast property of her deceased husband. But +what they did not know was that a condition attached to such inheritance +irritated Agnes and caused Garvington unfeigned alarm. Pine's +solicitor—he was called Jarwin and came from a stuffy little office in +Chancery Lane—called Garvington aside, when the mourners returned from +the funeral, and asked that the reading of the will might be confined to +a few people whom he named.</p> + +<p>"There is a condition laid down by the testator which need not be made +public," said Mr. Jarwin blandly. "A proposition which, if possible, +must be kept out of print."</p> + +<p>Garvington, with a sudden recollection of his iniquity in connection +with the falsified check, did not dare to ask questions, but hastily +summoned the people named by the lawyer. As these were the widow, Lady +Garvington, himself, and his cousin Noel, the little man had no fear of +what might be forthcoming, since with relatives there could be no risk +of betrayal. All the same, he waited for the reading of the will with +some perturbation, for the suggested secrecy hinted at some posthumous +revenge on the part of the dead man. And, hardened as he was, Garvington +did not wish his wife and Lambert to become acquainted with his +delinquency. He was, of course, unaware that the latter knew about it +through Agnes, and knew also how it had been used to coerce her—for the +pressure amounted to coercion—into a loveless marriage.</p> + +<p>The quintette assembled in a small room near the library, and when the +door and window were closed there was no chance that any one would +overhear the conference. Lambert was rather puzzled to know why he had +been requested to be present, as he had no idea that Pine would mention +him in the will. However, he had not long to wait before he learned the +reason, for the document produced by Mr. Jarwin was singularly short and +concise. Pine had never been a great speaker, and carried his reticence +into his testamentary disposition. Five minutes was sufficient for the +reading of the will, and those present learned that all real and +personal property had been left unreservedly to Agnes Pine, the widow of +the testator, on condition that she did <i>not</i> marry Noel Tamsworth +Leighton Lambert. If she did so, the money was to pass to a certain +person, whose name was mentioned in a sealed envelope held by Mr. +Jarwin. This was only to be opened when Agnes Pine formally relinquished +her claim to the estate by marrying Noel Lambert. Seeing that the will +disposed of two millions sterling, it was a remarkably abrupt document, +and the reading of it took the hearers' breath away.</p> + +<p>Garvington, relieved from the fears of his guilty conscience, was the +first to recover his power of speech. He looked at the lean, dry lawyer, +and demanded fiercely if no legacy had been left to him. "Surely Pine +did not forget me?" he lamented, with more temper than sorrow.</p> + +<p>"You have heard the will," said Mr. Jarwin, folding up the single sheet +of legal paper on which the testament was inscribed.</p> + +<p>"There are no legacies."</p> + +<p>"None at all."</p> + +<p>"Hasn't Pine remembered Silver?"</p> + +<p>"He has remembered nothing and no one save Lady Agnes." Jarwin bowed to +the silent widow, who could not trust herself to speak, so angered was +she by the cruel way in which her husband had shown his jealousy.</p> + +<p>"It's all very dreadful and very disagreeable," said Lady Garvington in +her weak and inconsequent way. "I'm sure I was always nice to Hubert and +he might have left me a few shillings to get clothes. Everything goes in +cooks and food and—"</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, Jane," struck in her husband crossly. "You're always +thinking of frocks and frills. But I agree with you this will is +dreadful. I am not going to sit under such a beastly sell you know," he +added, turning to Jarwin. "I shall contest the will."</p> + +<p>The lawyer coughed dryly and smiled. "As you are not mentioned in the +testament, Lord Garvington, I fail to see what you can do."</p> + +<p>"Hum! hum! hum!" Garvington was rather disconcerted. "But Agnes can +fight it."</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" questioned the widow, who was very pale and very quiet.</p> + +<p>"Why should you?" blustered her brother. "It prevents your marrying +again."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, it does not," corrected Mr. Jarwin, with another dry cough. +"Lady Agnes can marry any one she chooses to, save—" His eyes rested on +the calm and watchful face of Lambert.</p> + +<p>The young man colored, and glancing at Agnes, was about to speak. But on +second thoughts he checked himself, as he did not wish to add to the +embarrassment of the scene. It was the widow who replied. "Did Sir +Hubert tell you why he made such a provision?" she asked, striving to +preserve her calmness, which was difficult under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>"Why, no," said Jarwin, nursing his chin reflectively. "Sir Hubert was +always of a reticent disposition. He simply instructed me to draw up the +will you have heard, and gave me no explanation. Everything is in order, +and I am at your service, madam, whenever you choose to send for me."</p> + +<p>"But suppose I marry Mr. Lambert—"</p> + +<p>"Agnes, you won't be such a fool!" shouted her brother, growing so +scarlet that he seemed to be on the point of an apoplectic fit.</p> + +<p>She turned on him with a look, which reduced him to silence, but +carefully avoided the eyes of the cousin. "Suppose I marry Mr. Lambert?" +she asked again.</p> + +<p>"In that case you will lose the money," replied Jarwin, slightly weary +of so obvious an answer having to be made. "You have heard the will."</p> + +<p>"Who gets the money then?"</p> + +<p>This was another ridiculous question, as Jarwin, and not without reason, +considered.</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to read the will again?" he asked sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"No. I am aware of what it contains."</p> + +<p>"In that case, you must know, madam, that the money goes to a certain +person whose name is mentioned in a sealed envelope, now in my office +safe."</p> + +<p>"Who is the person?" demanded Garvington, with a gleam of hope that Pine +might have made him the legatee.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, my lord. Sir Hubert Pine wrote down the name and +address, sealed the envelope, and gave it into my charge. It can only be +opened when the ceremony of marriage takes place between—" he bowed +again to Lady Agnes and this time also to Lambert.</p> + +<p>"Pine must have been insane," said Garvington, fuming. "He disguises +himself as a gypsy, and comes to burgle my house, and makes a silly will +which ought to be upset."</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert never struck me as insane," retorted Jarwin, putting the +disputed will into his black leather bag. "A man who can make two +million pounds in so short a space of time can scarcely be called +crazy."</p> + +<p>"But this masquerading as a gypsy and a burglar," urged Garvington +irritably.</p> + +<p>"He was actually a gypsy, remember, my lord, and it was natural that he +should wish occasionally to get back to the life he loved. As to his +being a burglar, I venture to disagree with you. He had some reason to +visit this house at the hour and in the manner he did, and doubtless if +he had lived he would have explained. But whatever might have been his +motive, Lord Garvington, I am certain it was not connected with +robbery."</p> + +<p>"Well," snapped the fat little man candidly, "if I had known that Pine +was such a blighter as to leave me nothing, I'm hanged if I'd have +allowed him to be buried in such decent company."</p> + +<p>"Freddy, Freddy, the poor man is dead. Let him rest," said Lady +Garvington, who looked more limp and untidy than ever.</p> + +<p>"I wish he was resting somewhere else than in my vault. A damned +gypsy!"</p> + +<p>"And my husband," said Lady Agnes sharply. "Don't forget that, +Garvington."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could forget it. Much use he has been to us."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> have no cause to complain," said his sister with a meaning +glance, and Garvington suddenly subsided.</p> + +<p>"Won't you say something, Noel?" asked Lady Garvington dismally.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what there is to say," he rejoined, not lifting his eyes +from the ground.</p> + +<p>"There you are wrong," remarked Agnes with a sudden flush. "There is a +very great deal to say, but this is not the place to say it. Mr. +Jarwin," she rose to her feet, looking a queenly figure in her long +black robes, "you can return to town and later will receive my +instructions."</p> + +<p>The lawyer looked hard at her marble face, wondering whether she would +choose the lover or the money. It was a hard choice, and a very +difficult position. He could not read in her eyes what she intended to +do, so mutely bowed and took a ceremonious departure, paying a silent +tribute to the widow's strength of mind. "Poor thing; poor thing," +thought the solicitor, "I believe she loves her cousin. It is hard that +she can only marry him at the cost of becoming a pauper. A difficult +position for her, indeed. H'm! she'll hold on to the money, of course; +no woman would be such a fool as to pay two millions sterling for a +husband."</p> + +<p>In relation to nine women out of ten, this view would have been a +reasonable one to take, but Agnes happened to be the tenth, who had the +singular taste—madness some would have called it—to prefer love to +hard cash. Still, she made no hasty decision, seeing that the issues +involved in her renunciation were so great. Garvington, showing a +characteristic want of tact, began to argue the question almost the +moment Jarwin drove away from The Manor, but his sister promptly +declined to enter into any discussion.</p> + +<p>"You and Jane can go away," said she, cutting him short. "I wish to have +a private conversation with Noel."</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake don't give up the money," whispered Garvington in an +agonized tone when at the door.</p> + +<p>"I sold myself once to help the family," she replied in the same low +voice; "but I am not so sure that I am ready to do so twice."</p> + +<p>"Quite right, dear," said Lady Garvington, patting the widow's hand. "It +is better to have love than money. Besides, it only means that Freddy +will have to give up eating rich dinners which don't agree with him."</p> + +<p>"Come away, you fool!" cried Freddy, exasperated, and, seizing her arm, +he drew her out of the room, growling like a sick bear.</p> + +<p>Agnes closed the door, and returned to look at Lambert, who still +continued to stare at the carpet with folded arms. "Well?" she demanded +sharply.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he replied in the same tone, and without raising his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is that all you have to say, Noel?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see what else I can say. Pine evidently guessed that we loved +one another, although heaven knows that our affection has been innocent +enough, and has taken this way to part us forever."</p> + +<p>"Will it part us forever?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. As an honorable man, and one who loves you dearly, I can't +expect you to give up two millions for the sake of love in a cottage +with me. It is asking too much."</p> + +<p>"Not when a woman loves a man as I love you."</p> + +<p>This time Lambert did look up, and his eyes flashed with surprise and +delight. "Agnes, you don't mean to say that you would—"</p> + +<p>She cut him short by sitting down beside him and taking his hand. "I +would rather live on a crust with you in the Abbot's Wood Cottage than +in Park Lane a lonely woman with ample wealth."</p> + +<p>"You needn't remain lonely long," said Lambert moodily. "Pine's will +does not forbid you to marry any one else."</p> + +<p>"Do I deserve that answer, Noel, after what I have just said?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear, no." He pressed her hand warmly. "But you must make some +allowance for my feelings. It is right that a man should sacrifice all +for a woman, but that a woman should give up everything for a man seems +wrong."</p> + +<p>"Many women do, if they love truly as I do."</p> + +<p>"But, Agnes, think what people will say about me."</p> + +<p>"That will be your share of the sacrifice," she replied promptly. "If I +do this, you must do that. There is no difficulty when the matter is +looked on in that light. But there is a graver question to be answered."</p> + +<p>Lambert looked at her in a questioning manner and read the answer in her +eyes. "You mean about the property of the family?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Agnes heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I wish I had been born a +village girl rather than the daughter of a great house. Rank has its +obligations, Noel. I recognized that before, and therefore married +Hubert. He was a good, kind man, and, save that I lost you, I had no +reason to regret becoming his wife. But I did not think that he would +have put such an insult on me."</p> + +<p>"Insult, dear?" Lambert flushed hotly.</p> + +<p>"What else can you call this forbidding me to marry you? The will is +certain to be filed at Somerset House, and the contents will be made +known to the public in the usual way, through the newspapers. Then what +will people say, Noel? Why, that I became Hubert's wife in order to get +his money, since, knowing that he was consumptive, I hoped he would soon +die, and that as a rich widow I could console myself with you. They will +chuckle to see how my scheme has been overturned by the will."</p> + +<p>"But you made no such scheme."</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Still, everyone will credit me with having done so. +As a woman, who has been insulted, and by a man who has no reason to +mistrust me, I feel inclined to renounce the money and marry you, if +only to show how I despise the millions. But as a Lambert I must think +again of the family as I thought before. The only question is, whether +it is wise to place duty above love for the second time, considering the +misery we have endured, and the small thanks we have received for our +self-denial?"</p> + +<p>"Surely Garvington's estates are free by now?"</p> + +<p>"No; they are not. Hubert, as I told you when we spoke in the cottage, +paid off many mortgages, but retained possession of them. He did not +charge Garvington any interest, and let him have the income of the +mortgaged land. No one could have behaved better than Hubert did, until +my brother's demands became so outrageous that it was impossible to go +on lending and giving him money. Hubert did not trust him so far as to +give back the mortgages, so these will form a portion of his estate. As +that belongs to me, I can settle everything with ease, and place +Garvington in an entirely satisfactory condition. But I do that at the +cost of losing you, dear. Should the estates pass to this unknown +person, the mortgages would be foreclosed, and our family would be +ruined."</p> + +<p>"Are things as bad as that?"</p> + +<p>"Every bit as bad. Hubert told me plainly how matters stood. For +generations the heads of the family have been squandering money. Freddy +is just as bad as the rest, and, moreover, has no head for figures. He +does not know the value of money, never having been in want of it. But +if everything was sold up—and it must be if I marry you and lose the +millions—he will be left without an acre of land and only three hundred +a year."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the devil!" Lambert jumped up and began to walk up and down the +room with a startled air. "That would finish the Lambert family with a +vengeance, Agnes. What do you wish me to do?" he asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Wait," she said quietly.</p> + +<p>"Wait? For what—the Deluge?"</p> + +<p>"It won't come while I hold the money. I have a good business head, and +Hubert taught me how to deal with financial matters. I could not give +him love, but I did give him every attention, and I believe that I was +able to help him in some ways. I shall utilize my experience to see the +family lawyer and go into matters thoroughly. Then we shall know for +certain if things are as bad as Hubert made out. If they are, I must +sacrifice you and myself for the sake of our name; if they are not—"</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked Lambert, seeing how she hesitated. Agnes crossed the room +and placed her arms round his neck with a lovely color tinting her wan +cheeks. "Dear," she whispered, "I shall marry you. In doing so I am not +disloyal to Hubert's memory, since I have always loved you, and he +accepted me as his wife on the understanding that I could not give him +my heart. And now that he has insulted me," she drew back, and her eyes +flashed, "I feel free to become your wife."</p> + +<p>"I see," Lambert nodded. "We must wait?"</p> + +<p>"We must wait. Duty comes before love. But I trust that the sacrifice +will not be necessary. Good-bye, dear," and she kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," repeated Lambert, returning the kiss. Then they parted.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI" />CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>BLACKMAIL.</h3> + + +<p>Having come to the only possible arrangement, consistent with the +difficult position in which they stood, Lambert and Lady Agnes took +their almost immediate departure from The Manor. The young man had +merely come to stay there in response to his cousin's request, so that +his avoidance of her should not be too marked, and the suspicions of +Pine excited. Now that the man was dead, there was no need to behave in +this judicious way, and having no great love for Garvington, whom he +thoroughly despised, Lambert returned to his forest cottage. There he +busied himself once more with his art, and waited patiently to see what +the final decision of Agnes would be. He did not expect to hear for some +weeks, or even months, as the affairs of Garvington, being very much +involved, could not be understood in a moment. But the lovers, parted by +a strict sense of duty, eased their minds by writing weekly letters to +one another.</p> + +<p>Needless to say, Garvington did not at all approve of the decision of +his sister, which she duly communicated to him. He disliked Lambert, +both as the next heir to the estates, and because he was a more popular +man than himself. Even had Pine not prohibited the marriage in his will, +Garvington would have objected to Agnes becoming the young man's wife; +as it was, he stormed tempests, but without changing the widow's +determination. Being a remarkably selfish creature, all he desired was +that Agnes should live a solitary life as a kind of banker, to supply +him with money whenever he chose to ask for the same. Pine he had not +been able to manage, but he felt quite sure that he could bully his +sister into doing what he wanted. It both enraged and surprised him to +find that she had a will of her own and was not content to obey his +egotistical orders. Agnes would not even remain under his roof—as he +wanted her to, lest some other person should get hold of her and the +desirable millions—but returned to her London house. The only comfort +he had was that Lambert was not with her, and therefore—as he devoutly +hoped—she would meet some man who would cause her to forget the Abbot's +Wood recluse. So long as Agnes retained the money, Garvington did not +particularly object to her marrying, as he always hoped to cajole and +bully ready cash out of her, but he would have preferred had she +remained single, as then she could be more easily plundered.</p> + +<p>"And yet I don't know," he said to his long-suffering wife. "While she's +a widow there's always the chance that she may take the bit between her +teeth and marry Noel, in which case she loses everything. It will be as +well to get her married."</p> + +<p>"You will have no selection of the husband this time," said Lady +Garvington, whose sympathies were entirely for Agnes. "She will choose +for herself."</p> + +<p>"Let her," retorted Garvington, with feigned generosity. "So long as she +does not choose Noel; hang him!"</p> + +<p>"He's the very man she will choose;" replied his wife, and Garvington, +uneasily conscious that she was probably right, cursed freely all women +in general and his sister in particular. Meanwhile he went to Paris to +look after a famous chef, of whom he had heard great things, and left +his wife in London with strict injunctions to keep a watch on Agnes.</p> + +<p>The widow was speedily made aware of these instructions, for when Lady +Garvington came to stay with her sister-in-law at the sumptuous Mayfair +mansion, she told her hostess about the conversation. More than that, +she even pressed her to marry Noel, and be happy.</p> + +<p>"Money doesn't do so much, after all, when you come to think of it," +lamented Lady Garvington. "And I know you'd be happier with Noel, than +living here with all this horrid wealth."</p> + +<p>"What would Freddy say if he heard you talk so, Jane?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what else he can say," rejoined the other reflectively. +"He's never kept his temper or held his tongue with me. His liver is +nearly always out of order with over-eating. However," she added +cheering up, "he is sure to die of apoplexy before long, and then I +shall live on tea and buns for the rest of my life. I simply hate the +sight of a dinner table."</p> + +<p>"Freddy isn't a pretty sight during a meal," admitted his sister with a +shrug. "All the same you shouldn't wish him dead, Jane. You might have a +worse husband."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather have a profligate than a glutton, Agnes. But Freddy won't +die, my dear. He'll go to Wiesbaden, or Vichy, or Schwalbach, and take +the waters to get thin; then he'll return to eat himself to the size of +a prize pig again. But thank goodness," said Lady Garvington, cheering +up once more, "he's away for a few weeks, and we can enjoy ourselves. +But do let us have plain joints and no sauces, Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can live on bread and water if you choose," said the widow +good-humoredly. "It's a pity I am in mourning, as I can't take you out +much. But the motor is always at your disposal, and I can give you all +the money you want. Get a few dresses—"</p> + +<p>"And hats, and boots, and shoes, and—and—oh, I don't know what else. +You're a dear, Agnes, and although I don't want to ruin you, I do want +heaps of things. I'm in rags, as Freddy eats up our entire income."</p> + +<p>"You can't ruin a woman with two millions, Jane. Get what you require +and I'll pay. I am only too glad to give you some pleasure, since I +can't attend to you as I ought to. But you see, nearly three times a +week I have to consult the lawyers about settling Freddy's affairs."</p> + +<p>On these conditions four or five weeks passed away very happily for the +two women. Lady Garvington certainly had the time of her life, and +regained a portion of her lost youth. She revelled in shopping, went in +a quiet way to theatres, patronized skating rinks, and even attended one +or two small winter dances. And to her joy, she met with a nice young +man, who was earnestly in pursuit of a new religion, which involved much +fasting and occasional vegetarian meals. He taught her to eat nuts, and +eschew meats, talking meanwhile of the psychic powers which such +abstemiousness would develop in her. Of course Lady Garvington did not +overdo this asceticism, but she was thankful to meet a man who had not +read Beeton's Cookery Book. Besides, he flirted quite nicely.</p> + +<p>Agnes, pleased to see her sister-in-law enjoying life, gave her +attention to Garvington's affairs, and found them in a woeful mess. It +really did appear as if she would have to save the Lambert family from +ever-lasting disgrace, and from being entirely submerged, by keeping +hold of her millions. But she did not lose heart, and worked on bravely +in the hope that an adjustment would save a few thousand a year for +Freddy, without touching any of Pine's money. If she could manage to +secure him a sufficient income to keep up the title, and to prevent the +sale of The Manor in Hengishire, she then intended to surrender her +husband's wealth and retire to a country life with Noel as her husband.</p> + +<p>"He can paint and I can look after the cottage along with Mrs. Tribb," +she told Mrs. Belgrove, who called to see her one day, more painted and +dyed and padded and tastefully dressed than ever. "We can keep fowls and +things, you know," she added vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Quite an idyl," tittered the visitor, and then went away to tell her +friends that Lady Agnes must have been in love with her cousin all the +time. And as the contents of the will were now generally known, every +one agreed that the woman was a fool to give up wealth for a dull +existence in the woods. "All the same it's very sweet," sighed Mrs. +Belgrove, having made as much mischief as she possibly could. "I should +like it myself if I could only dress as a Watteau shepherdess, you know, +and carry a lamb with a blue ribbon round its dear neck."</p> + +<p>Of course, Lady Agnes heard nothing of this ill-natured chatter, since +she did not go into society during her period of mourning, and received +only a few of her most intimate friends. Moreover, besides attending to +Garvington's affairs, it was necessary that she should have frequent +consultations with Mr. Jarwin in his stuffy Chancery Lane office, +relative to the large fortune left by her late husband. There, on three +occasions she met Silver, the ex-secretary, when he came to explain +various matters to the solicitor. With the consent of Lady Agnes, the +man had been discharged, when Jarvin took over the management of the +millions, but having a thorough knowledge of Pine's financial dealings, +it was necessary that he should be questioned every now and then.</p> + +<p>Silver was rather sulky over his abrupt dismissal, but cunningly +concealed his real feelings when in the presence of the widow, since she +was too opulent a person to offend. It was Silver who suggested that a +reward should be offered for the detection of Pine's assassin. Lady +Agnes approved of the idea, and indeed was somewhat shocked that she had +not thought of taking this course herself. Therefore, within seven days +every police office in the United Kingdom was placarded with bills, +stating that the sum of one thousand pounds would be given to the person +or persons who should denounce the culprit. The amount offered caused +quite a flutter of excitement, and public interest in the case was +revived for nearly a fortnight. At the conclusion of that period, as +nothing fresh was discovered, people ceased to discuss the matter. It +seemed as though the reward, large as it was, would never be claimed.</p> + +<p>But having regard to the fact that Silver was interesting himself in the +endeavor to avenge his patron's death, Lady Agnes was not at all +surprised to receive a visit from him one foggy November afternoon. She +certainly did not care much for the little man, but feeling dull and +somewhat lonely, she quite welcomed his visit. Lady Garvington had gone +with her ascetic admirer to a lecture on "Souls and Sorrows!" therefore +Agnes had a spare hour for the ex-secretary. He was shown into her own +particular private sitting-room, and she welcomed him with studied +politeness, for try as she might it was impossible for her to overcome +her mistrust.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, Mr. Silver," she said, when he bowed before her. "This is an +unexpected visit. Won't you be seated?"</p> + +<p>Silver accepted her offer of a chair with an air of demure shyness, and +sitting on its edge stared at her rather hard. He looked neat and dapper +in his Bond Street kit, and for a man who had started life as a +Whitechapel toymaker, his manners were inoffensive. While Pine's +secretary he had contrived to pick up hints in the way of social +behavior, and undoubtedly he was clever, since he so readily adapted +himself to his surroundings. He was not a gentleman, but he looked like +a gentleman, and therein lay a subtle difference as Lady Agnes decided. +She unconsciously in her manner, affable as it was, suggested the gulf +between them, and Silver, quickly contacting the atmosphere, did not +love her any the more for the hint.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he admired her statuesque beauty, the fairness of which +was accentuated by her sombre dress. Blinking like a well-fed cat, +Silver stared at his hostess, and she looked questioningly at him. With +his foxy face, his reddish hair, and suave manners, too careful to be +natural, he more than ever impressed her with the idea that he was a +dangerous man. Yet she could not see in what way he could reveal his +malignant disposition.</p> + +<p>"What do you wish to see me about, Mr. Silver?" she asked kindly, but +did not—as he swiftly noticed—offer him a cup of tea, although it was +close upon five o'clock.</p> + +<p>"I have come to place my services at your disposal," he said in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>"Really, I am not aware that I need them," replied Lady Agnes coldly, +and not at all anxious to accept the offer.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Silver dryly, and clearing his throat, "that when you +hear what I have to say you will be glad that I have come."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Will you be good enough to speak plainer?"</p> + +<p>She colored hotly when she asked the question, as it struck her suddenly +that perhaps this plotter knew of Garvington's slip regarding the check. +But as that had been burnt by Pine at the time of her marriage, she +reflected that even if Silver knew about it, he could do nothing. +Unless, and it was this thought that made her turn red, Garvington had +again risked contact with the criminal courts. The idea was not a +pleasant one, but being a brave woman, she faced the possibility boldly.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she asked calmly, as he did not reply immediately. "What have +you to say?"</p> + +<p>"It's about Pine's death," said Silver bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert, if you please."</p> + +<p>"And why, Lady Agnes?" Silver raised his faint eyebrows. "We were more +like brothers than master and servant. And remember that it was by the +penny toys that I invented your husband first made money."</p> + +<p>"In talking to me, I prefer that you should call my late husband Sir +Hubert," insisted the widow haughtily. "What have you discovered +relative to his death?"</p> + +<p>Silver did not answer the question directly. "Sir Hubert, since you will +have it so, Lady Agnes, was a gypsy," he remarked carelessly.</p> + +<p>"That was made plain at the inquest, Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, Lady Agnes, but there were other things not made plain on +that occasion. It was not discovered who shot him."</p> + +<p>"You tell me nothing new. I presume you have come to explain that you +have discovered a clew to the truth?"</p> + +<p>Silver raised his pale face steadily. "Would you be glad if I had?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly! Can you doubt it?"</p> + +<p>The man shirked a reply to this question also. "Sir Hubert did not treat +me over well," he observed irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"I fear that has nothing to do with me, Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"And I was dimissed from my post," he went on imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"On Mr. Jarwin's advice," she informed him quickly. "There was no need +for you to be retained. But I believe that you were given a year's +salary in lieu of notice."</p> + +<p>"That is so," he admitted. "I am obliged to you and to Mr. Jarwin for +the money, although it is not a very large sum. Considering what I did +for Sir Hubert, and how he built up his fortune out of my brains, I +think that I have been treated shabbily."</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes rose, and moved towards the fireplace to touch the ivory +button of the electric bell. "On that point I refer you to Mr. Jarwin," +she said coldly. "This interview has lasted long enough and can lead to +nothing."</p> + +<p>"It may lead to something unpleasant unless you listen to me," said +Silver acidly. "I advise you not to have me turned out, Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" She dropped the hand she had extended to ring the +bell, and faced the smooth-faced creature suddenly. "I don't know what +you are talking about."</p> + +<p>"If you will sit down, Lady Agnes, I can explain."</p> + +<p>"I can receive your explanation standing," said the widow, frowning. "Be +brief, please."</p> + +<p>"Very well. To put the matter in a nutshell, I want five thousand +pounds."</p> + +<p>"Five thousand pounds!" she echoed, aghast.</p> + +<p>"On account," said Silver blandly. "On account, Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"And for what reason?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert was a gypsy," he said again, and with a significant look.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"He stopped at the camp near Abbot's Wood."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"There is a gypsy girl there called Chaldea."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea! Chaldea!" muttered the widow, passing her hand across her +brow. "I have heard that name. Oh, yes. Miss Greeby mentioned it to me +as the name of a girl who was sitting as Mr. Lambert's model."</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Silver, grinning. "She is a very beautiful girl."</p> + +<p>The color rushed again to the woman's cheeks, but she controlled her +emotions with an effort. "So Miss Greeby told me!" She knew that the man +was hinting that Lambert admired the girl in question, but her pride +prevented her admitting the knowledge. "Chaldea is being painted as +Esmeralda to the Quasimodo of her lover, a Servian gypsy called Kara, as +I have been informed, Mr. Silver. But what has all this to do with me?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be in a hurry, Lady Agnes. It will take time to explain."</p> + +<p>"How dare you take this tone with me?" demanded the widow, clenching her +hands. "Leave the room, sir, or I shall have you turned out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall leave since you wish it," replied Silver, rising slowly and +smoothing his silk hat with his sleeve. "But of course I shall try and +earn the reward you offered, by taking the letter to the police."</p> + +<p>Agnes was so surprised that she closed again the door she had opened for +her visitor's exit. "What letter?"</p> + +<p>"That one which was written to inveigle Sir Hubert to The Manor on the +night he was murdered," replied Silver slowly, and suddenly raising his +eyes he looked at her straightly.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand," she said in a puzzled way. "I have never heard +that such a letter was in existence. Where is it?"</p> + +<p>"Chaldea has it, and will not give it up unless she receives five +thousand pounds," answered the man glibly. "Give it to me and it passes +into your possession, Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Give you what?"</p> + +<p>"Five thousand pounds—on account."</p> + +<p>"On account of blackmail. How dare you make such a proposition to me?"</p> + +<p>"You know," said Silver pointedly.</p> + +<p>"I know nothing. It is the first time I have heard of any letter. Who +wrote it, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"You know," said Silver again.</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes was so insulted by his triumphant look that she could have +struck his grinning face. However, she had too strong a nature to lower +herself in this way, and pointed to a chair. "Let me ask you a few +questions, Mr. Silver," she said imperiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am quite ready to answer whatever you choose to ask," he +retorted, taking his seat again and secretly surprised at her +self-control.</p> + +<p>"You say that Chaldea holds a letter which inveigled my husband to his +death?" demanded Lady Agnes coolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And she wants five thousand pounds for it."</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't she give it to the police?"</p> + +<p>"One thousand pounds is not enough for the letter. It is worth more—to +some people," and Silver raised his pale eyes again.</p> + +<p>"To me, I presume you mean;" then when he bowed, she continued her +examination. "The five thousand pounds you intimate is on account, yet +you say that Chaldea will deliver the letter for that sum."</p> + +<p>"To me," rejoined the ex-secretary impudently. "And when it is in my +possession, I can give it to you for twenty thousand pounds."</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes laughed in his face. "I am too good a business woman to make +such a bargain," she said with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know best," replied Silver, imitating her shrug.</p> + +<p>"I know nothing; I am quite in the dark as to the reason for your +blackmailing, Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"That is a nasty word, Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"It is the only word which seems to suit the situation. Why should I +give twenty-five thousand pounds for this letter?"</p> + +<p>"Its production will place the police on the track of the assassin."</p> + +<p>"And is not that what I desire? Why did I offer a reward of one thousand +pounds if I did not hope that the wretch who murdered my husband should +be brought to justice?"</p> + +<p>Silver exhibited unfeigned surprise. "You wish that?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do. Where was this letter discovered?"</p> + +<p>"Chaldea went to the tent of your husband in the camp and found it in +the pocket of his coat. He apparently left it behind by mistake when he +went to watch."</p> + +<p>"Watch?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! The letter stated that you intended to elope that night with Mr. +Lambert, and would leave the house by the blue door. Sir Hubert went to +watch and prevent the elopement. In that way he came by his death, since +Lord Garvington threatened to shoot a possible burglar. Of course, Sir +Hubert, when the blue door was opened by Lord Garvington, who had heard +the footsteps of the supposed burglar, threw himself forward, thinking +you were coming out to meet Mr. Lambert. Sir Hubert was first shot in +the arm by Lord Garvington, who really believed for the moment that he +had to do with a robber. But the second shot," ended Silver with +emphasis, "was fired by a person concealed in the shrubbery, who knew +that Sir Hubert would walk into the trap laid by the letter."</p> + +<p>During this amazing recital, Lady Agnes, with her eyes on the man's +face, and her hands clasped in sheer surprise, had sat down on a near +couch. She could scarcely believe her ears. "Is this true?" she asked in +a faltering voice.</p> + +<p>Silver shrugged his shoulders again. "The letter held by Chaldea +certainly set the snare in which Sir Hubert was caught. Unless the +person in the shrubbery knew about the letter, the person would scarcely +have been concealed there with a revolver. I know about the letter for +certain, since Chaldea showed it to me, when I went to ask questions +about the murder in the hope of gaining the reward. The rest of my story +is theoretical."</p> + +<p>"Who was the person who fired the shot?" asked Lady Agnes abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Who wrote the letter which set the snare?"</p> + +<p>Silver shuffled. "Chaldea loves Mr. Lambert," he said hesitating.</p> + +<p>"Go on," ordered the widow coldly and retaining her self-control.</p> + +<p>"She is jealous of you, Lady Agnes, because—"</p> + +<p>"There is no reason to explain," interrupted the listener between her +teeth.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Chaldea hating you, says that you wrote the letter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed." Lady Agnes replied calmly enough, although her conflicting +emotions almost suffocated her. "Then I take it that this gypsy declares +me to be a murderess."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shouldn't say that exactly."</p> + +<p>"I do say it," cried Lady Agnes, rising fiercely. "If I wrote the +letter, and set the snare, I must necessarily know that some one was +hiding in the shrubbery to shoot my husband. It is an abominable lie +from start to finish."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear you say so. But the letter?"</p> + +<p>"The police will deal with that."</p> + +<p>"The police? You will let Chaldea give the letter to the police?"</p> + +<p>"I am innocent and have no fear of the police. Your attempt to +blackmail me has failed, Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"Be wise and take time for reflection," he urged, walking towards the +door, "for I have seen this letter, and it is in your handwriting."</p> + +<p>"I never wrote such a letter."</p> + +<p>"Then who did—in your handwriting?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you did yourself, Mr. Silver, since you are trying to blackmail +me in this bareface way."</p> + +<p>Silver snarled and gave her an ugly look. "I did no such thing," he +retorted vehemently, and, as it seemed, honestly enough. "I had every +reason to wish that Sir Hubert should live, since my income and my +position depended upon his existence. But you—"</p> + +<p>"What about me?" demanded Lady Agnes, taking so sudden a step forward +that the little man retreated nearer the door.</p> + +<p>"People say—"</p> + +<p>"I know what people say and what you are about to repeat," she said in a +stifled voice. "You can tell the girl to take that forged letter to the +police. I am quite able to face any inquiry."</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Lambert also able?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lambert?" Agnes felt as though she would choke.</p> + +<p>"He was at his cottage on that night."</p> + +<p>"I deny that; he went to London."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea can prove that he was at his cottage, and—"</p> + +<p>"You had better go," said Lady Agnes, turning white and looking +dangerous. "Go, before you say what you may be sorry for. I shall tell +Mr. Lambert the story you have told me, and let him deal with the +matter."</p> + +<p>Silver threw off the mask, as he was enraged she should so boldly +withstand his demands. "I give you one week," he said harshly. "And, if +you do not pay me twenty-five thousand pounds, that letter goes to the +inspector at Wanbury."</p> + +<p>"It can go now," she declared dauntlessly.</p> + +<p>"In that case you and Mr. Lambert will be arrested at once."</p> + +<p>Agnes gripped the man's arm as he was about to step through the door. "I +take your week of grace," she said with a sudden impulse of wisdom.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would," retorted Silver insultingly. "But remember I must +get the money at the end of seven days. It's twenty-five thousand pounds +for me, or disgrace to you," and with an abrupt nod he disappeared +sneering.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five thousand pounds or disgrace," whispered Agnes to herself.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII" />CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THE CONSPIRACY.</h3> + + +<p>It was lucky that Lambert did not know of the ordeal to which Agnes had +to submit, unaided, since he was having a most unhappy time himself. In +a sketching expedition he had caught a chill, which had developed once +more a malarial fever, contracted in the Congo marshes some years +previously. Whenever his constitution weakened, this ague fit would +reappear, and for days, sometimes weeks, he would shiver with cold, and +alternately burn with fever. As the autumn mists were hanging round the +leafless Abbot's Wood, it was injudicious of him to sit in the open, +however warmly clothed, seeing that he was predisposed to disease. But +his desire for the society of the woman he loved, and the hopelessness +of the outlook, rendered him reckless, and he was more often out of +doors than in. The result was that when Agnes came down to relate the +interview with Silver, she found him in his sitting-room swathed in +blankets, and reclining in an arm-chair placed as closely to a large +wood fire as was possible. He was very ill indeed, poor man, and she +uttered an exclamation when she saw his wan cheeks and hollow eyes. +Lambert was now as weak as he had been strong, and with the mothering +instinct of a woman, she rushed forward to kneel beside his chair.</p> + +<p>"My dear, my dear, why did you not send for me?" she wailed, keeping +back her tears with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm all right, Agnes," he answered cheerfully, and fondly clasping +her hand. "Mrs. Tribb is nursing me capitally."</p> + +<p>"I'm doing my best," said the rosy-faced little housekeeper, who stood +at the door with her podgy hands primly folded over her apron. "Plenty +of bed and food is what I give Master Noel; but bless you, my lady, he +won't stay between the blankets, being always a worrit from a boy."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that I am very much between the blankets now," murmured +Lambert in a tired voice, and with a glance at his swathed limbs. "Go +away, Mrs. Tribb, and get Lady Agnes something to eat."</p> + +<p>"I only want a cup of tea," said Agnes, looking anxiously into her +lover's bluish-tinted face. "I'm not hungry."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tribb took a long look at the visitor and pursed up her lips, as +she shook her head. "Hungry you mayn't be, my lady, but food you must +have, and that of the most nourishing and delicate. You look almost as +much a corpse as Master Noel there."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Agnes, you do seem to be ill," said Lambert with a startled +glance at her deadly white face, and at the dark circles under her eyes. +"What is the matter, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing! Nothing! Don't worry."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tribb still continued to shake her head, and, to vary the movement, +nodded like a Chinese mandarin. "You ain't looked after proper, my lady, +for all your fine London servants, who ain't to be trusted, nohow, +having neither hands to do nor hearts to feel for them as wants comforts +and attentions. I remember you, my lady, a blooming young rose of a gal, +and now sheets ain't nothing to your complexion. But rose you shall be +again, my lady, if wine and food can do what they're meant to do. Tea +you shan't have, nohow, but a glass or two of burgundy, and a plate of +patty-foo-grass sandwiches, and later a bowl of strong beef tea with +port wine to strengthen the same," and Mrs. Tribb, with a determined +look on her face, went away to prepare these delicacies.</p> + +<p>"My dear! my dear!" murmured Agnes again when the door closed. "You +should have sent for me."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," answered Lambert, smoothing her hair. "I'm not a child to +cry out at the least scratch. It's only an attack of my old malarial +fever, and I shall be all right in a few days."</p> + +<p>"Not a few of these days," said Agnes, looking out of the window at the +gaunt, dripping trees and gray sky and melancholy monoliths. "You ought +to come to London and see the doctor."</p> + +<p>"Had I come, I should have had to pay you a visit, and I thought that +you did not wish me to, until things were adjusted."</p> + +<p>Agnes drew back, and, kneeling before the fire, spread out her hands to +the blaze. "Will they ever be adjusted?" she asked herself despairingly, +but did not say so aloud, as she was unwilling to worry the sick man. +"Well, I only came down to The Manor for a few days," she said aloud, +and in a most cheerful manner. "Jane wants to get the house in order +for Garvington, who returns from Paris in a week."</p> + +<p>"Agnes! Agnes!" Lambert shook his head. "You are not telling me the +truth. I know you too well, my dear."</p> + +<p>"I really am staying with Jane at The Manor," she persisted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I believe that; but you are in trouble and came down to consult me."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she admitted faintly. "I am in great trouble. But I don't wish to +worry you while you are in this state."</p> + +<p>"You will worry me a great deal more by keeping silence," said Lambert, +sitting up in his chair and drawing the blankets more closely round him. +"Do not trouble about me. I'm all right. But you—" he looked at her +keenly and with a dismayed expression. "The trouble must be very great," +he remarked.</p> + +<p>"It may become so, Noel. It has to do with—oh, here is Mrs. Tribb!" and +she broke off hurriedly, as the housekeeper appeared with a tray.</p> + +<p>"Now, my lady, just you sit in that arm-chair opposite to Master Noel, +and I'll put the tray on this small stool beside you. Sandwiches and +burgundy wine, my lady, and see that you eat and drink all you can. +Walking over on this dripping day," cried Mrs. Tribb, bustling about. +"Giving yourself your death of cold, and you with carriages and horses, +and them spitting cats of motive things. You're as bad as Master Noel, +my lady. As for him, God bless him evermore, he's—" Mrs. Tribb raised +her hands to show that words failed her, and once more vanished through +the door to get ready the beef tea.</p> + +<p>Agnes did not want to eat, but Lambert, who quite agreed with the +kind-hearted practical housekeeper, insisted that she should do so. To +please him she took two sandwiches, and a glass of the strong red wine, +which brought color back to her cheeks in some degree. When she +finished, and had drawn her chair closer to the blaze, he smiled.</p> + +<p>"We are just like Darby and Joan," said Lambert, who looked much better +for her presence. "I am so glad you are here, Agnes. You are the very +best medicine I can have to make me well."</p> + +<p>"The idea of comparing me to anything so nasty as medicine," laughed +Agnes with an attempt at gayety. "But indeed, Noel, I wish my visit was +a pleasant one. But it is not, whatever you may say; I am in great +trouble."</p> + +<p>"From what—with what—in what?" stuttered Lambert, so confusedly and +anxiously that she hesitated to tell him.</p> + +<p>"Are you well enough to hear?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I am," he answered fretfully, for the suspense began to tell +on his nerves. "I would rather know the worst and face the worst than be +left to worry over these hints. Has the trouble to do with the murder?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And with Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"Pine's secretary? I thought you had got rid of him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Mr. Jarwin said that he was not needed, so I paid him a year's +wages instead of giving him notice, and let him go. But I have met him +once or twice at the lawyers, as he has been telling Mr. Jarwin about +poor Hubert's investments. And yesterday afternoon he came to see me."</p> + +<p>"What about?"</p> + +<p>Agnes came to the point at once, seeing that it would be better to do +so, and put an end to Lambert's suspense. "About a letter supposed to +have been written by me, as a means of luring Hubert to The Manor to be +murdered."</p> + +<p>Lambert's sallow and pinched face grew a deep red. "Is the man mad?"</p> + +<p>"He's sane enough to ask twenty-five thousand pounds for the letter," +she said in a dry tone. "There's not much madness about that request."</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five thousand pounds!" gasped Lambert, gripping the arms of his +chair and attempting to rise.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Don't get up, Noel, you are too weak." Agnes pressed him back into +the seat. "Twenty thousand for himself and five thousand for Chaldea."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea! Chaldea! What has she got to do with the matter?"</p> + +<p>"She holds the letter," said Agnes with a side-glance. "And being +jealous of me, she intends to make me suffer, unless I buy her silence +and the letter. Otherwise, according to Mr. Silver, she will show it to +the police. I have seven days, more or less, in which to make up my +mind. Either I must be blackmailed, or I must face the accusation."</p> + +<p>Lambert heard only one word that struck him in this speech. "Why is +Chaldea jealous of you?" he demanded angrily.</p> + +<p>"I think you can best answer that question, Noel."</p> + +<p>"I certainly can, and answer it honestly, too. Who told you about +Chaldea?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silver, for one, as I have just confessed. Clara Greeby for +another. She said that the girl was sitting to you for some picture."</p> + +<p>"Esmeralda and Quasimodo," replied the artist quickly. "You will find +what I have done of the picture in the next room. But this confounded +girl chose to fall in love with me, and since then I have declined to +see her. I need hardly tell you, Agnes, that I gave her no +encouragement."</p> + +<p>"No, dear. I never for one moment supposed that you would."</p> + +<p>"All the same, and in spite of my very plain speaking, she continues to +haunt me, Agnes. I have avoided her on every occasion, but she comes +daily to see Mrs. Tribb, and ask questions about my illness."</p> + +<p>"Then, if she comes this afternoon, you must get that letter from her," +was the reply. "I wish to see it."</p> + +<p>"Silver declares that you wrote it?"</p> + +<p>"He does. Chaldea showed it to him."</p> + +<p>"It is in your handwriting?"</p> + +<p>"So Mr. Silver declares."</p> + +<p>Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggled +uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints," he +said with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailed +account of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exact +words if you can remember them, Agnes."</p> + +<p>"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insults +easily."</p> + +<p>"Damn the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear."</p> + +<p>Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that had +passed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twice +during the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, he +longed for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have fared +badly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment. +When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"It's a conspiracy," he declared.</p> + +<p>"A conspiracy, Noel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love with +me. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to do +you an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is assisting her. I will +do Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a single +penny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police. +But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has prevented +her doing so. As to this letter—" He stopped and rubbed his chin again +vexedly.</p> + +<p>"It must be a forgery."</p> + +<p>"Without doubt, but not of your handwriting, I fancy, in spite of what +this daring blackguard says. He informed you that the letter stated how +you intended to elope with me on that night, and would leave The Manor +by the blue door. Also, on the face of it, it would appear that you had +written the letter to your husband, since otherwise it would not have +been in his possession. You would not have given him such a hint had an +elopement really been arranged."</p> + +<p>Agnes frowned. "There was no chance of an elopement being arranged," she +observed rather coldly.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. You and I know as much, but I am looking at the matter +from the point of view of the person who wrote the letter. It can't be +your forged handwriting, for Pine would never have believed that you +would put him on the track as it were. No, Agnes. Depend upon it, the +letter was a warning sent by some sympathetic friend, and is probably an +anonymous one."</p> + +<p>Agnes nodded meditatively. "You may be right, Noel. But who wrote to +Hubert?"</p> + +<p>"We must see the letter and find out."</p> + +<p>"But if it is my forged handwriting?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it is," said Lambert decisively. "No conspirator would +be so foolish as to conduct his plot in such a way. However, Chaldea has +the letter, according to Silver, and we must make her give it up. She is +sure to be here soon, as she always comes bothering Mrs. Tribb in the +afternoon about my health. Just ring that hand-bell, Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Do you think Chaldea wrote the letter?" she asked, having obeyed him.</p> + +<p>"No. She has not the education to forge, or even to write decently."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Mr. Silver—but no. I taxed him with setting the trap, and he +declared that Hubert was more benefit to him alive than dead, which is +perfectly true. Here is Mrs. Tribb, Noel."</p> + +<p>Lambert turned his head. "Has that gypsy been here to-day?" he asked +sharply.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Master Noel, but there's no saying when she may come, for +she's always hanging round the house. I'd tar and feather her and slap +and pinch her if I had my way, say what you like, my lady. I've no +patience with gals of that free-and-easy, light-headed, +butter-won't-melt-in-your-mouth kind."</p> + +<p>"If she comes to-day, show her in here," said Lambert, paying little +attention to Mrs. Tribb's somewhat German speech of mouth-filling words.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper's black eyes twinkled, and she opened her lips, then she +shut them again, and looking at Lady Agnes in a questioning way, trotted +out of the room. It was plain that Mrs. Tribb knew of Chaldea's +admiration for her master, and could not understand why he wished her to +enter the house when Lady Agnes was present. She did not think it a wise +thing to apply fire to gunpowder, which, in her opinion, was what +Lambert was doing.</p> + +<p>There ensued silence for a few moments. Then Agnes, staring into the +fire, remarked in a musing manner, "I wonder who did shoot Hubert. Mr. +Silver would not have done so, as it was to his interest to keep him +alive. Do you think that to hurt me, Noel, Chaldea might have—"</p> + +<p>"No! No! No! It was to her interest also that Pine should live, since +she knew that I could not marry you while he was alive."</p> + +<p>Agnes nodded, understanding him so well that she did not need to ask +for a detailed explanation. "It could not have been any of those staying +at The Manor," she said doubtfully, "since every one was indoors and in +bed. Garvington, of course, only broke poor Hubert's arm under a +misapprehension. Who could have been the person in the shrubbery?"</p> + +<p>"Silver hints that I am the individual," said Lambert grimly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he does," assented Lady Agnes quickly. "I declared that you were +in London, but he said that you returned on that night to this place."</p> + +<p>"I did, worse luck. I went to town, thinking it best to be away while +Pine was in the neighborhood, and—"</p> + +<p>"You knew that Hubert was a gypsy and at the camp?" interrupted Agnes in +a nervous manner, for the information startled her.</p> + +<p>"Yes! Chaldea told me so, when she was trying to make me fall in love +with her. I did not tell you, as I thought that you might be vexed, +although I dare say I should have done so later. However, I went to town +in order to prevent trouble, and only returned for that single night. I +went back to town next morning very early, and did not hear about the +murder until I saw a paragraph in the evening papers. Afterwards I came +down to the funeral because Garvington asked me to, and I thought that +you would like it."</p> + +<p>"Why did you come back on that particular night?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Agnes, I had no idea that Hubert would be murdered on that +especial night, so did not choose it particularly. I returned because I +had left behind a parcel of your letters to me when we were engaged. I +fancied that Chaldea might put Hubert up to searching the cottage while +I was away, and if he had found those letters he would have been more +jealous than ever, as you can easily understand."</p> + +<p>"No, I can't understand," flashed out Agnes sharply. "Hubert knew that +we loved one another, and that I broke the engagement to save the +family. I told him that I could not give him the affection he desired, +and he was content to marry me on those terms. The discovery of letters +written before I became his wife would not have caused trouble, since I +was always loyal to him. There was no need for you to return, and your +presence here on that night lends color to Mr. Silver's accusation."</p> + +<p>"But you don't believe—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I don't. All the same it is awkward for both of us."</p> + +<p>"I think it was made purposely awkward, Agnes. Whosoever murdered Hubert +must have known of my return, and laid the trap on that night, so that I +might be implicated."</p> + +<p>"But who set the trap?"</p> + +<p>"The person who wrote that letter."</p> + +<p>"And who wrote the letter?"</p> + +<p>"That is what we have to find out from Chaldea!"</p> + +<p>At that moment; as if he had summoned her, the gypsy suddenly flung open +the door and walked in with a sulky expression on her dark face. At +first she had been delighted to hear that Lambert wanted to see her, but +when informed by Mrs. Tribb that Lady Agnes was with the young man, she +had lost her temper. However, the chance of seeing Lambert was too +tempting to forego, so she marched in defiantly, ready to fight with her +rival if there was an opportunity of doing so. But the Gentile lady +declined the combat, and took no more notice of the jealous gypsy than +was absolutely necessary. On her side Chaldea ostentatiously addressed +her conversation to Lambert.</p> + +<p>"How are you, rye?" she asked, stopping with effort in the middle of the +room, for her impulse was to rush forward and gather him to her heaving +bosom. "Have you taken drows, my precious lord?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by drows, Chaldea?"</p> + +<p>"Poison, no less. You look drabbed, for sure."</p> + +<p>"Drabbed?"</p> + +<p>"Poisoned. But I waste the kalo jib on you, my Gorgious. God bless you +for a sick one, say I, and that's a bad dukkerin, the which in gentle +Romany means fortune, my Gentile swell."</p> + +<p>"Drop talking such nonsense," said Lambert sharply, and annoyed to see +how the girl ignored the presence of Lady Agnes. "I have a few questions +to ask you about a certain letter."</p> + +<p>"Kushto bak to the rye, who showed it to the lady," said Chaldea, +tossing her head so that the golden coins jingled.</p> + +<p>"He did not show it to me, girl," remarked Lady Agnes coldly.</p> + +<p>"Hai! It seems that the rumy of Hearne can lie."</p> + +<p>"I shall put you out of the house if you speak in that way," said +Lambert sternly. "Silver went to Lady Agnes and tried to blackmail her."</p> + +<p>"He's a boro pappin, and that's Romany for a large goose, my Gorgious +rye, for I asked no gold."</p> + +<p>"You told him to ask five thousand pounds."</p> + +<p>"May I die in a ditch if I did!" cried Chaldea vehemently. "Touch the +gold of the raclan I would not, though I wanted bread. The tiny rye took +the letter to give to the prastramengro, and that's a policeman, my +gentleman, so that there might be trouble. But I wished no gold from +her. Romany speaking, I should like to poison her. I love you, and—"</p> + +<p>"Have done with this nonsense, Chaldea. Talk like that and out you go. +I can see from what you admit, that you have been making mischief."</p> + +<p>"That's as true as my father," laughed the gypsy viciously. "And glad am +I to say the word, my boro rye. And why should the raclan go free-footed +when she drew her rom to be slaughtered like a pig?"</p> + +<p>"I did nothing of the sort," cried Agnes, with an angry look.</p> + +<p>"Duvel, it is true." Chaldea still addressed Lambert, and took no notice +of Agnes. "I swear it on your Bible-book. I found the letter in my +brother's tent, the day after he perished. Hearne, for Hearne he was, +and a gentle Romany also, read the letter, saying that the raclan, his +own romi, was running away with you."</p> + +<p>"Who wrote the letter?" demanded Agnes indignantly.</p> + +<p>This time Chaldea answered her fiercely. "You did, my Gorgious rani, and +lie as you may, it's the truth I tell."</p> + +<p>Ill as he was, Lambert could not endure seeing the girl insult Agnes. +With unexpected strength he rose from his chair and took her by the +shoulders to turn her out of the room. Chaldea laughed wildly, but did +not resist. It was Agnes who intervened. "Let her stay until we learn +the meaning of these things, Noel," she said rapidly in French.</p> + +<p>"She insults you," he replied, in the same tongue, but released the +girl.</p> + +<p>"Never mind; never mind." Agnes turned to Chaldea and reverted to +English. "Girl, you are playing a dangerous game. I wrote no letter to +the man you call Hearne, and who was my husband—Sir Hubert Pine."</p> + +<p>Chaldea laughed contemptuously. "Avali, that is true. The letter was +written by you to my precious rye here, and Hearne's dukkerin brought it +his way."</p> + +<p>"How did he get it?"</p> + +<p>"Those who know, know," retorted Chaldea indifferently. "Hearne's breath +was out of him before I could ask."</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that I wrote the letter?"</p> + +<p>"The tiny rye swore by his God that you did."</p> + +<p>"It is absolutely false!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my mother, there are liars about," jeered the gypsy sceptically. +"Catch you blabbing your doings on the crook, my rani, Chore mandy—"</p> + +<p>"Speak English," interrupted Agnes, who was quivering with rage.</p> + +<p>"You can't cheat me," translated Chaldea sulkily. "You write my rye, +here, the letter swearing to run world-wide with him, and let it fall +into your rom's hands, so as to fetch him to the big house. Then did +you, my cunning gentleman," she whirled round on the astounded Lambert +viciously, "hide so quietly in the bushes to shoot. Hai! it is so, and I +love you for the boldness, my Gorgious one."</p> + +<p>"It is absolutely false," cried Lambert, echoing Agnes.</p> + +<p>"True! true! and twice times true. May I go crazy, Meg, if it isn't. You +wanted the raclan as your romi, and so plotted my brother's death. But +your sweet one will go before the Poknees, and with irons on her wrists, +and a rope round her—"</p> + +<p>"You she-devil!" shouted Lambert in a frenzy of rage, and forgetting in +his anger the presence of Agnes.</p> + +<p>"Words of honey under the moon," mocked the girl, then suddenly became +tender. "Let her go, rye, let her go. My love is all for you, and when +we pad the hoof together, those who hate us shall take off the hat."</p> + +<p>Lambert sat glaring at her furiously, and Agnes glided between him and +the girl, fearful lest he should spring up and insult her. But she +addressed her words to Chaldea. "Why do you think I got Mr. Lambert to +kill my husband?" she asked, wincing at having to put the question, but +seeing that it was extremely necessary to learn all she could from the +gypsy.</p> + +<p>The other woman drew her shawl closely round her fine form and snapped +her fingers contemptuously. "It needs no chovihani to tell. Hearne the +Romany was poor, Pine the Gentile chinked gold in his pockets. Says you +to yourself, 'He I love isn't him with money.' And says you, 'If I don't +get my true rom, the beauty of the world will clasp him to her breast.' +So you goes for to get Hearne out of the flesh, to wed the rye here on +my brother's rich possessions. Avali," she nodded vigorously. "That is +so, though 'No' you says to me, for wisdom. Red money you have gained, +my daring sister, for the blood of a Romany chal has changed the color. +But I'm no—"</p> + +<p>How long she would have continued to rage at Lady Agnes it is impossible +to say, for the invalid, with the artificial strength of furious anger, +sprang from his chair to turn her out of the room. Chaldea dodged him in +the alert way of a wild animal.</p> + +<p>"That's no love-embrace, my rye," she jibed, retreating swiftly. "Later, +later, when the moon rises, my angel," and she slipped deftly through +the door with a contemptuous laugh. Lambert would have followed, but +that Agnes caught his arm, and with tears in her eyes implored him to +remain.</p> + +<p>"But what can we do in the face of such danger?" she asked him when he +was quieter, and breaking down, she sobbed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"We must meet it boldly. Silver has the forged letter: he must be +arrested."</p> + +<p>"But the scandal, Noel. Dare we—"</p> + +<p>"Agnes, you are innocent: I am innocent. Innocence can dare all things."</p> + +<p>Both sick, both troubled, both conscious of the dark clouds around them, +they looked at one another in silence. Then Lambert repeated his words +with conviction, to reassure himself as much as to comfort her.</p> + +<p>"Innocence can dare all things," said Lambert, positively.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII" />CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>A FRIEND IN NEED.</h3> + + +<p>It was natural that Lambert should talk of having Silver arrested, as in +the first flush of indignation at his audacious attempt to levy +blackmail, this appeared the most reasonable thing to do. But when Agnes +went back to The Manor, and the sick man was left alone to struggle +through a long and weary night, the reaction suggested a more cautious +dealing with the matter. Silver was a venomous little reptile, and if +brought before a magistrate would probably produce the letter which he +offered for sale at so ridiculous a price. If this was made public, +Agnes would find herself in an extremely unpleasant position. Certainly +the letter was forged, but that would not be easy to prove. And even if +it were proved and Agnes cleared her character, the necessary scandal +connected with the publicity of such a defence would be both distressing +and painful. In wishing to silence Silver, and yet avoid the +interference of the police, Lambert found himself on the horns of a +dilemma.</p> + +<p>Having readjusted the situation in his own mind, Lambert next day wrote +a lengthy letter to Agnes, setting forth his objections to drastic +measures. He informed her—not quite truthfully—that he hoped to be on +his feet in twenty-four hours, and then would personally attend to the +matter, although he could not say as yet what he intended to do. But +five out of the seven days of grace allowed by the blackmailer yet +remained, and much could be done in that time. "Return to town and +attend to your own and to your brother's affairs as usual," concluded +the letter. "All matters connected with Silver can be left in my hands, +and should he attempt to see you in the meantime, refer him to me." The +epistle ended with the intimation that Agnes was not to worry, as the +writer would take the whole burden on his own shoulders. The widow felt +more cheerful after this communication, and went back to her town house +to act as her lover suggested. She had every belief in Lambert's +capability to deal with the matter.</p> + +<p>The young man was more doubtful, for he could not see how he was to +begin unravelling this tangled skein. The interview with Chaldea had +proved futile, as she was plainly on the side of the enemy, and to apply +to Silver for information as to his intentions would merely result in a +repetition of what he had said to Lady Agnes. It only remained to lay +the whole matter before Inspector Darby, and Lambert was half inclined +to go to Wanbury for this purpose. He did not, however, undertake the +journey, for two reasons. Firstly, he wished to avoid asking for +official assistance until absolutely forced to do so; and secondly, he +was too ill to leave the cottage. The worry he felt regarding Agnes's +perilous position told on an already weakened frame, and the invalid +grew worse instead of better.</p> + +<p>Finally, Lambert decided to risk a journey to the camp, which was not so +very far distant, and interview Mother Cockleshell. The old lady had no +great love for Chaldea, who flouted her authority, and would not, +therefore, be very kindly disposed towards the girl. The young man +believed, in some vague way, that Chaldea had originated the conspiracy +which had to do with the letter, and was carrying her underhand plans +to a conclusion with the aid of Silver. Mother Cockleshell, who was very +shrewd, might have learned or guessed the girl's rascality, and would +assuredly thwart her aims if possible. Also the gypsy-queen would +probably know a great deal about Pine in his character of Ishmael +Hearne, since she had been acquainted with him intimately during the +early part of his life. But, whatever she knew, or whatever she did not +know, Lambert considered that it would be wise to enlist her on his +side, as the mere fact that Chaldea was one of the opposite party would +make her fight like a wild cat. And as the whole affair had to do with +the gypsies, and as Gentilla Stanley was a gypsy, it was just as well to +apply for her assistance. Nevertheless, Lambert was quite in the dark, +as to what assistance could be rendered.</p> + +<p>In this way the young man made his plans, only to be thwarted by the +weakness of his body. He could crawl out of bed and sit before the fire, +but in spite of all his will-power, he could not crawl as far as the +camp. Baffled in this way, he decided to send a note asking Mother +Cockleshell to call on him, although he knew that if Chaldea learned +about the visit—which she was almost certain to do—she would be placed +on her guard. But this had to be risked, and Lambert, moreover, believed +that the old woman was quite equal to dealing with the girl. However, +Fate took the matter out of his hands, and before he could even write +the invitation, a visitor arrived in the person of Miss Greeby, who +suggested a way out of the difficulty, by offering her services. Matters +came to a head within half an hour of her presenting herself in the +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby was quite her old breezy, masculine self, and her presence +in the cottage was like a breath of moorland air blowing through the +languid atmosphere of a hot-house. She was arrayed characteristically in +a short-skirted, tailor-made gown of a brown hue and bound with brown +leather, and wore in addition a man's cap, dog-skin gloves, and heavy +laced-up boots fit to tramp miry country roads. With her fresh +complexion and red hair, and a large frame instinct with vitality, she +looked aggressively healthy, and Lambert with his failing life felt +quite a weakling beside this magnificent goddess.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, old fellow," cried Miss Greeby in her best man-to-man style, +"feeling chippy? Why, you do look a wreck, I must say. What's up?"</p> + +<p>"The fever's up and I'm down," replied Lambert, who was glad to see her, +if only to distract his painful thoughts. "It's only a touch of malaria, +my dear Clara. I shall be all right in a few days."</p> + +<p>"You're hopeful, I must say, Lambert. What about a doctor?"</p> + +<p>"I don't need one. Mrs. Tribb is nursing me."</p> + +<p>"Coddling you," muttered Miss Greeby, planting herself manfully in an +opposite chair and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly manner. "Fresh air +and exercise, beefsteaks and tankards of beer are what you need. Defy +Nature and you get the better of her. Kill or cure is my motto."</p> + +<p>"As I have strong reasons to remain alive, I shan't adopt your +prescription, Dr. Greeby," said Lambert, dryly. "What are you doing in +these parts? I thought you were shooting in Scotland."</p> + +<p>"So I was," admitted the visitor, frankly and laying her bludgeon—she +still carried it—across her knee. "But I grew sick of the sport. +Knocked over the birds too easy, Lambert, so there was no fun. The birds +are getting as silly as the men."</p> + +<p>"Well, women knock them over easy enough."</p> + +<p>"That's what I mean," said Miss Greeby, vigorously. "It's a rotten +world, this, unless one can get away into the wilds."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go there?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Miss Greeby leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and +dandled the bludgeon with both hands. "I thought I'd like a change from +the rough and ready. This case of Pine's rather puzzled me, and so I'm +on the trail as a detective."</p> + +<p>Lambert was rather startled. "That's considerably out of your line, +Clara."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby nodded. "Exactly, and so I'm indulging in the novelty. One +must do something to entertain one's self, you know, Lambert. It struck +me that the gypsies know a lot more about the matter than they chose to +say, so I came down yesterday, and put up at the Garvington Arms in the +village. Here I'm going to stay until I can get at the root of the +matter."</p> + +<p>"What root?"</p> + +<p>"I wish to learn who murdered Pine, poor devil."</p> + +<p>"Ah," Lambert smiled. "You wish to gain the reward."</p> + +<p>"Not me. I've got more money than I know what to do with, as it is. +Silver is more anxious to get the cash than I am."</p> + +<p>"Silver! Have you seen him lately?"</p> + +<p>"A couple of days ago," Miss Greeby informed him easily. "He's my +secretary now, Lambert. Yes! The poor beast was chucked out of his +comfortable billet by the death of Pine, and hearing that I wanted some +one to write my letters and run my errands, and act like a tame cat +generally, he applied to me. Since I knew him pretty well through Pine, +I took him on. He's a cunning little fox, but all right when he's kept +in order. And I find him pretty useful, although I've only had him as a +secretary for a fortnight."</p> + +<p>Lambert did not immediately reply. The news rather amazed him, as it had +always been Miss Greeby's boast that she could manage her own business. +It was queer that she should have changed her mind in this respect, +although she was woman enough to exercise that very feminine +prerogative. But the immediate trend of Lambert's thoughts were in the +direction of seeking aid from his visitor. He could not act himself +because he was sick, and he knew that she was a capable person in +dealing with difficulties. Also, simply for the sake of something to do +she had become an amateur detective and was hunting for the trail of +Pine's assassin. It seemed to Lambert that it would not be a bad idea to +tell her of his troubles. She would, as he knew, be only too willing to +assist, and in that readiness lay his hesitation. He did not wish, if +possible, to lie under any obligation to Miss Greeby lest she should +demand in payment that he should become her husband. And yet he believed +that by this time she had overcome her desires in this direction. To +make sure, he ventured on a few cautious questions.</p> + +<p>"We're friends, aren't we, Clara?" he asked, after a long pause.</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Miss Greeby, nodding heartily. "Does it need putting into +words?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not, but what I mean is that we are pals." He used the word +which he knew most appealed to her masculine affectations.</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Miss Greeby again, and once more heartily. "Real, honest +pals. I never believed in that stuff about the impossibility of a man +and woman being pals unless there's love rubbish about the business. At +one time, Lambert, I don't deny but what I had a feeling of that sort +for you."</p> + +<p>"And now?" questioned the young man with an uneasy smile.</p> + +<p>"Now it's gone, or rather my love has become affection, and that's quite +a different thing, old fellow. I want to see you happy, and you aren't +now. I daresay you're still crying for the moon. Eh?" she looked at him +sharply.</p> + +<p>"You asked me that before when you came here," said Lambert, slowly. +"And I refused to answer. I can answer now. The moon is quite beyond my +reach, so I have dried my tears."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby, who was lighting a cigarette, threw away the match and +stared hard at his haggard face. "Well, I didn't expect to hear that, +now we know how the moon—"</p> + +<p>"Call things by their right name," interrupted Lambert, sharply. "Agnes +is now a widow, if that's what you mean."</p> + +<p>"It is, if you call Agnes a thing. Of course, you'll marry her since the +barrier has been removed?"</p> + +<p>"Meaning Pine? No! I'm not certain on that point. She is a rich widow +and I'm a poor artist. In honor bound I can't allow her to lose her +money by becoming my wife."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby stared at the fire. "I heard about that beastly will," she +said, frowning. "Horribly unfair, I call it. Still, I believed that you +loved the moon—well, then, Agnes, since you wish us to be plain—and +would carry her off if you had the pluck."</p> + +<p>"I have never been accused of not having pluck, Clara. But there's +another thing to be considered, and that's honor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bosh!" cried Miss Greeby, with boyish vigor. "You love her and she +loves you, so why not marry?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not worth paying two million for, Clara."</p> + +<p>"You are, if she loves you."</p> + +<p>"She does and would marry me to-morrow if I would let her. The +hesitation is on my part."</p> + +<p>"More fool you. If I were in her position I'd soon overcome your +scruples."</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Lambert delicately.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think so," she retorted. "A woman always gets her own way."</p> + +<p>"And sometimes wrecks continents to get it."</p> + +<p>"I'd wreck this one, anyhow," said Miss Greeby dryly. "However, we're +pals, and if there's anything I can do—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is," said Lambert abruptly, and making up his mind to trust +her, since she showed plainly that there was no chance of love on her +part destroying friendship. "I'm sick here and can't move. Let me engage +you to act on my behalf."</p> + +<p>"As what, if you don't mind my asking, Lambert?"</p> + +<p>"As what you are for the moment, a detective."</p> + +<p>"Ho!" said Miss Greeby in a guttural manner. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"I want you to learn on my behalf, and as my deputy, who murdered Pine."</p> + +<p>"So that you can marry Agnes?"</p> + +<p>"No. The will has stopped my chances in that direction. Her two million +forms quite an insurmountable barrier between us now, as the fact of her +being Pine's wife did formerly. Now you understand the situation, and +that I am prevented by honor from making her my wife, don't let us talk +any more on that especial subject."</p> + +<p>"Right you are," assented Miss Greeby affably. "Only I'll say this, that +you are too scrupulous, and if I can help you to marry Agnes I shall do +so."</p> + +<p>"Why?" demanded Lambert bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Because I'm your pal and wish to see you happy. You won't be happy, +like the Pears soap advertisement, until you get it. Agnes is the 'it.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, leave the matter alone, Clara," said Lambert, taking the +privilege of an invalid and becoming peevish. "As things stand, I can +see no chance of marrying Agnes without violating my idea of honor."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you wish me to help you?" demanded Miss Greeby sharply.</p> + +<p>"How do I wish you to help me, you mean."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I know what you wish me to do; act as detective; I know +about it, my dear boy."</p> + +<p>"You don't," retorted Lambert, again fractious. "But if you listen I'll +tell you exactly what I mean."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby made herself comfortable with a fresh cigarette, and nodded +in an easy manner, "I'm all attention, old boy. Fire away!"</p> + +<p>"You must regard my confidence as sacred."</p> + +<p>"There's my hand on it. But I should like to know why you desire to +learn who murdered Pine."</p> + +<p>"Because if you don't track down the assassin, Agnes will get into +trouble."</p> + +<p>"Ho!" ejaculated Miss Greeby, guttural again. "Go on."</p> + +<p>Lambert wasted no further time in preliminary explanations, but plunged +into the middle of things. In a quarter of an hour his auditor was +acquainted with the facts of a highly unpleasant case, but exhibited no +surprise when she heard what her secretary had to do with the matter. In +fact, she rather appeared to admire his acuteness in turning such shady +knowledge to his own advantage. At the same time, she considered that +Agnes had behaved in a decidedly weak manner. "If I'd been in her shoes +I'd have fired the beast out in double-quick time," said Miss Greeby +grimly. "And I'd have belted him over the head in addition."</p> + +<p>"Then he would have gone straight to the police."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no he wouldn't. One thousand reward against twenty-five thousand +blackmail isn't good enough."</p> + +<p>"He won't get his blackmail," said Lambert, tightening his lips.</p> + +<p>"You bet he won't now that I've come into the matter. But there's no +denying he's got the whip-hand so far."</p> + +<p>"Agnes never wrote the letter," said Lambert quickly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that goes without the saying, my dear fellow. Agnes knew that if +she became a rich widow, your uneasy sense of honor would never let you +marry her. She had no reason to get rid of Pine on that score."</p> + +<p>"Or on any score, you may add."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby nodded. "Certainly! You and Agnes should have got married +and let Garvington get out of his troubles as best he could. That's what +I should have done, as I'm not an aristocrat, and can't see the use of +becoming the sacrifice for a musty, fusty old family. However, Agnes +made her bargain and kept to it. She's all right, although other people +may be not of that opinion."</p> + +<p>"There isn't a man or woman who dare say a word against Agnes."</p> + +<p>"A good many will say lots of words, should what you have told me get +into print," rejoined Miss Greeby dryly.</p> + +<p>"I agree with you. Therefore do I ask for your assistance. What is best +to be done, Clara?"</p> + +<p>"We must get the letter from Silver and learn who forged it. Once that +is made plain, the truth will come to light, since the individual who +forged and sent that letter must have fired the second shot."</p> + +<p>"Quite so. But Silver won't give up the letter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, he will. He's my secretary, and I'll make him."</p> + +<p>"Even as your secretary he won't," said Lambert, dubiously.</p> + +<p>"We'll see about that, old boy. I'll heckle and harry and worry Silver +on to the gallows if he doesn't do what he's told."</p> + +<p>"The gallows. You don't think—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think nothing. It was to Silver's interest that Pine should live, +so I don't fancy he set the trap. It was to Chaldea's interest that Pine +should not live, since she loves you, and I don't think she is to blame. +Garvington couldn't have done it, as he has lost a good friend in Pine, +and—and—go on Lambert, suggest some one else."</p> + +<p>"I can't. And two out of three you mention were inside The Manor when +the second shot was fired, so can prove an alibi."</p> + +<p>"I'm not bothering about who fired the second shot," said Miss Greeby +leisurely, "but as to who wrote that letter. Once we find the forger, +we'll soon discover the assassin."</p> + +<p>"True; but how are you going about it?"</p> + +<p>"I shall see Silver and force him to give me the letter."</p> + +<p>"If you can."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll manage somehow. The little beast's a coward, and I'll bully +him into compliance." Miss Greeby spoke very confidently. "Then we'll +see the kind of paper the letter is written on, and there may be an +envelope which would show where it was posted. Of course, the forger +must be well acquainted with Agnes's handwriting."</p> + +<p>"That's obvious," said Lambert promptly. "Well, I suppose that your way +of starting the matter is the best. But we have only four days before +Silver makes his move."</p> + +<p>"When I get the letter he won't make any move," reported Miss Greeby, +and she looked very determined.</p> + +<p>"Let us hope so. But, Clara, before you return to town I wish you would +see Mother Cockleshell."</p> + +<p>"That old gypsy fortune-teller, who looks like an almshouse widow? Why?"</p> + +<p>"She hates Chaldea, and I suspect that Chaldea has something to do with +the matter of this conspiracy."</p> + +<p>"Ha!" Miss Greeby rubbed her aquiline nose. "A conspiracy. Perhaps you +may be right. But its reason?"</p> + +<p>Lambert colored. "Chaldea wants me to marry her, you know."</p> + +<p>"The minx! I know she does. I warned you against having her to sit for +you, Lambert. But there's no sense in your suggestion, my boy. It wasn't +any catch for her to get Pine killed and leave his wife free to marry +you."</p> + +<p>"No. And yet—and yet—hang it," the young man clutched his hair in +desperation and glared at the fire, "I can't see any motive."</p> + +<p>"Nor can I. Unless it is to be found in the City."</p> + +<p>"Gypsies are more lawless than City men," observed the other quickly, +"and Hearne would have enemies rather than Pine."</p> + +<p>"I don't agree with you," said Miss Greeby, rising and getting ready to +go away. "Hearne was nobody: Pine was a millionaire. Successful men have +enemies all over the shop."</p> + +<p>"At the inquest it was said that Pine had no enemies."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rubbish. A strong man like that couldn't make such a fortune +without exciting envy. I'll bet that his assassin is to be found in a +frock coat and a silk hat. However, I'll look up Mother Cockleshell, as +it is just as well to know what she thinks of this pretty gypsy hussy of +yours."</p> + +<p>"Not of mine. I don't care for her in the least."</p> + +<p>"As if that mattered. There is always one who loves and one who is +loved, as Heine says, and that is the cause of all life's tragedies. Of +this tragedy maybe, although I think some envious stockbroker may have +shot Pine as a too successful financial rival. However, we shall see +about it."</p> + +<p>"And see about another thing, Clara," said Lambert quickly. "Call on +Agnes and tell her that she need not worry over Silver. She expects the +Deluge in a few days, remember."</p> + +<p>"Write and tell her that I have the case in hand and that she needn't +trouble about Silver. I'll straighten him out."</p> + +<p>"I fear you are too hopeful."</p> + +<p>"I don't fear anything of the sort. I'll break his neck if he doesn't +obey me. I wouldn't hesitate to do it, either."</p> + +<p>Lambert ran his eyes over her masculine personality and laughed. "I +quite believe that, Clara. But, I say, won't you have some tea before +you go?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I don't eat between meals."</p> + +<p>"Afternoon tea is a meal."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. It's a weakness. I'm not Garvington. By the way, where is +he?"</p> + +<p>"In Paris, but he returns in a few days."</p> + +<p>"Then don't let him meddle with this matter, or he'll put things wrong."</p> + +<p>"I shall allow no one but yourself to meddle, Clara, Garvington shan't +know a single thing."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby nodded. "Right. All we wish kept quiet would be in the +papers if Garvington gets hold of our secrets. He's a loose-tongued +little glutton. Well, good-bye, old chap, and do look after yourself. +Good people are scarce."</p> + +<p>Lambert gripped her large hand. "I'm awfully obliged to you, Clara."</p> + +<p>"Wait until I do something before you say that, old son," she laughed +and strode towards the door. "By the way, oughtn't I to send the doctor +in?"</p> + +<p>"No. Confound the doctor! I'm all right. You'll see me on my legs in a +few days."</p> + +<p>"Then we can work together at the case. Keep your flag flying, old chap, +for I'm at the helm to steer the bark." And with this nautical farewell +she went off with a manly stride, whistling a gay tune.</p> + +<p>Left alone, the invalid looked into the fire, and wondered if he had +been right to trust her. After some thought, he concluded that it was +the best thing he could have done, since, in his present helpless state, +he needed some one to act as his deputy. And there was no doubt that +Miss Greeby had entirely overcome the passion she had once entertained +for him.</p> + +<p>"I hope Agnes will think so also," thought Lambert, when he began a +letter to the lady. "She was always rather doubtful of Clara."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV" />CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE.</h3> + + +<p>As Miss Greeby had informed Lambert, she intended to remain at the +Garvington Arms until the mystery of Pine's death was solved. But her +interview with him necessitated a rearrangement of plans, since the +incriminating letter appeared to be such an important piece of evidence. +To obtain it, Miss Greeby had decided to return to London forthwith, in +order to compel its surrender. Silver would undoubtedly show fight, but +his mistress was grimly satisfied that she would be able to manage him, +and quite counted upon gaining her end by bullying him into compliance. +When in possession of the letter she decided to submit it to Agnes and +hear what that lady had to say about it as a dexterous piece of forgery. +Then, on what was said would depend her next move in the complicated +game. Meanwhile, since she was on the spot and desired to gather all +possible evidence connected with Chaldea's apparent knowledge of the +crime, Miss Greeby went straight from Lambert's cottage to the gypsy +camp.</p> + +<p>Here she found the community of vagrants in the throes of an election, +or rather their excitement was connected with the deposition of Gentilla +Stanley from the Bohemian throne, and the elevation of Chaldea. Miss +Greeby mixed with the throng, dispensed a few judicious shillings and +speedily became aware of what was going on. It appeared that Chaldea, +being pretty and unscrupulous, and having gained, by cunning, a +wonderful influence amongst the younger members of the tribe, was +insisting that she should be elected its head. The older men and women, +believing wisely that it was better to have an experienced ruler than a +pretty figurehead, stood by Mother Cockleshell, therefore the camp was +divided into two parties. Tongues were used freely, and occasionally +fists came into play, while the gypsies gathered round the tent of the +old woman and listened to the duet between her and the younger aspirant +to this throne of Brentford. Miss Greeby, with crossed legs and leaning +on her bludgeon, listened to the voluble speech of Mother Cockleshell, +which was occasionally interrupted by Chaldea. The oration was delivered +in Romany, and Miss Greeby only understood such scraps of it as was +hastily translated to her by a wild-eyed girl to whom she had given a +shilling. Gentilla, less like a sober pew-opener, and more resembling +the Hecate of some witch-gathering, screamed objurgations at the pitch +of her crocked voice, and waved her skinny arms to emphasize her words, +in a most dramatic fashion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ye Romans," she screeched vehemently, "are ye not fools to be +gulled by a babe with her mother's milk—and curses that it fed +her—scarcely dry on her living lips? Who am I who speak, asses of the +common? Gentilla Stanley, whose father was Pharaoh before her, and who +can call up the ghosts of dead Egyptian kings, with a tent for a palace, +and a cudgel for a sceptre, and the wisdom of our people at the service +of all."</p> + +<p>"Things have changed," cried out Chaldea with a mocking laugh. "For old +wisdom is dead leaves, and I am the tree which puts forth the green of +new truths to make the Gorgios take off their hats to the Romans."</p> + +<p>"Oh, spawn of the old devil, but you lie. Truth is truth and changes +not. Can you read the hand? can you cheat the Gentile? do you know the +law of the Poknees, and can you diddle them as has money? Says you, 'I +can!' And in that you lie, like your mother before you. Bless your +wisdom"—Mother Cockleshell made an ironical curtsey. "Age must bow +before a brat."</p> + +<p>"Beauty draws money to the Romans, and wheedles the Gorgios to part with +red gold. Wrinkles you have, mother, and weak wits to—"</p> + +<p>"Weak wits, you drab? My weakest wits are your strongest. 'Wrinkles,' +says you in your cunning way, and flaunts your brazen smoothness. I spit +on you for a fool." The old woman suited her action to the word. "Every +wrinkle is the mark of lessons learned, and them is wisdom which the +Romans take from my mouth."</p> + +<p>"Hear the witchly hag," cried Chaldea in her turn. "She and her musty +wisdom that puts the Romans under the feet of the Gentiles. Are not +three of our brothers in choky? have we not been turned off common and +out of field? Isn't the fire low and the pot empty, and every purse +without gold? Bad luck she has brought us," snarled the girl, pointing +an accusing finger. "And bad luck we Romans will have till she is turned +from the camp."</p> + +<p>"Like a dog you would send me away," shrieked Mother Cockleshell, +glancing round and seeing that Chaldea's supporters outnumbered her own. +"But I'm dangerous, and go I shall as a queen should, at my own free +will. I cast a shoe amongst you,"—she flung one of her own, hastily +snatched off her foot—"and curses gather round it. Under its heels +shall you lie, ye Romans, till time again and time once more be +accomplished. I go on my own," she turned and walked to the door of her +tent. "Alone I go to cheat the Gentiles and win my food. Take your new +queen, and with her sorrow and starvation, prison, and the kicks of the +Gorgios. So it is, as I have said, and so it shall be."</p> + +<p>She vanished into the tent, and the older members of the tribe, shaking +their heads over the ill-omen of her concluding words, withdrew +sorrowfully to their various habitations, in order to discuss the +situation. But the young men and women bowed down before Chaldea and +forthwith elected her their ruler, fawning on her, kissing her hands and +invoking blessings on her pretty face, that face which they hoped and +believed would bring prosperity to them. And there was no doubt that of +late, under Mother Cockleshell's leadership, the tribe had been +unfortunate in many ways. It was for this reason that Chaldea had raised +the standard of rebellion, and for this reason also she gained her +triumph. To celebrate her coronation she gave Kara, who hovered +constantly at her elbow, a couple of sovereigns, and told him to buy +food and drink. In a high state of enjoyment the gypsies dispersed in +order to prepare for the forthcoming festivity, and Chaldea, weary but +victorious, stood alone by the steps of the caravan, which was her +perambulating home. Seizing her opportunity, Miss Greeby approached.</p> + +<p>"My congratulations to your majesty," she said ironically. "I'm sorry +not to be able to stay for your coronation, which I presume takes place +to-night. But I have to go back to London to see a friend of yours."</p> + +<p>"I have no friends, my Gentile lady," retorted Chaldea, with a fiery +spark in each eye. "And what do you here amongst the gentle Romany?"</p> + +<p>"Gentle," Miss Greeby chuckled, "that's a new word for the row that's +been going on, my girl. Do you know me?"</p> + +<p>"As I know the road and the tent and the art of dukkerhin. You stay at +the big house, and you love the rye who lived in the wood."</p> + +<p>"Very clever of you to guess that," said Miss Greeby coolly, "but as it +happens, you are wrong. The rye is not for me and not for you. He +marries the lady he worships on his knees. Forgive me for speaking in +this high-flowing manner," ended Miss Greeby apologetically, "but in +romantic situations one must speak romantic words."</p> + +<p>Chaldea did not pay attention to the greater part of this speech, as +only one statement appealed to her. "The rye shall not marry the Gentile +lady," she said between her white teeth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think so, Chaldea. Your plotting has all been in vain."</p> + +<p>"My plotting. What do you know of that?"</p> + +<p>"A certain portion, my girl, and I'm going to know more when I see +Silver."</p> + +<p>Chaldea frowned darkly. "I know nothing of him."</p> + +<p>"I think you do, since you gave him a certain letter."</p> + +<p>"Patchessa tu adove?" asked Chaldea scornfully; then, seeing that her +visitor did not understand her, explained: "Do you believe in that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Greeby alertly. "You found the letter in Pine's tent +when he was camping here as Hearne, and passed it to Silver so that he +might ask money for it."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie. I swear it's a lie. I ask no money. I told the tiny rye—"</p> + +<p>"Silver, I presume," put in Miss Greeby carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Aye: Silver is his name, and a good one for him as has no gold."</p> + +<p>"He will get gold from Lady Agnes for the letter."</p> + +<p>"No. Drodi—ah bah!" broke off Chaldea. "You don't understand Romanes. I +speak the Gorgio tongue to such as you. Listen! I found the letter which +lured my brother to his death. The rani wrote that letter, and I gave it +to the tiny rye, saying: 'Tell her if she gives up the big rye free she +shall go; if not take the letter to those who deal in the law.'"</p> + +<p>"The police, I suppose you mean," said Miss Greeby coolly. "A very +pretty scheme, my good girl. But it won't do, you know. Lady Agnes never +wrote that letter, and had nothing to do with the death of her husband."</p> + +<p>"She set a trap for him," cried Chaldea fiercely, "and Hearne walked +into it like a rabbit into a snare. The big rye waited outside and +shot—"</p> + +<p>"That's a lie," interrupted Miss Greeby just as fiercely, and determined +to defend her friend. "He would not do such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Ha! but I can prove it, and will when the time is ripe. He becomes my +rom does the big rye, or round his neck goes the rope; and she dances +long-side, I swear."</p> + +<p>"What a bloodthirsty idea, you savage devil! And how do you propose to +prove that Mr. Lambert shot the man?"</p> + +<p>"Aha," sneered Chaldea contemptuously, "you take me for a fool, +saying more than I can do. But know this, my precious angel"—she +fumbled in her pocket and brought out a more or less formless piece +of lead—"what's this, may I ask? The bullet which passed through +Hearne's heart, and buried itself in a tree-trunk."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby made a snatch at the article, but Chaldea was too quick for +her and slipped it again into her pocket. "You can't prove that it is +the bullet," snapped Miss Greeby glaring, for she dreaded lest its +production should incriminate Lambert, innocent though she believed him +to be.</p> + +<p>"Kara can prove it. He went to where Hearne was shot and saw that there +was a big tree by the blue door, and before the shrubbery. A shot fired +from behind the bushes would by chance strike the tree. The bullet which +killed my brother was not found in the heart. It passed through and was +in the tree-trunk. Kara knifed it out and brought it to me. If this," +Chaldea held up the bullet again jeeringly, "fits the pistol of the big +rye he will swing for sure. The letter hangs her and the bullet hangs +him. I want my price."</p> + +<p>"You won't get it, then," said Miss Greeby, eyeing the pocket into +which the girl had again dropped the bullet. "Mr. Lambert was absent in +London on that night. I heard that by chance."</p> + +<p>"Then you heard wrong, my Gentile lady. Avali, quite wrong. The big rye +returned on that very night and went to Lundra again in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Even if he did," said Miss Greeby desperately, "he did not leave the +cottage. His housekeeper can prove—"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," snapped Chaldea triumphantly. "She was in her bed and the +golden rye was in his bed. My brother was killed after midnight, and if +the rye took a walk then, who can say where he was?"</p> + +<p>"You have to prove all this, you know."</p> + +<p>Chaldea snapped her fingers. "First, the letter to shame her; then the +bullet to hang him. The rest comes after. My price, you know, my +Gorgious artful. I toves my own gad. It's a good proverb, lady, and true +Romany."</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"I wash my own shirt," said Chaldea, significantly, and sprang up the +steps of her gaily-painted caravan to shut herself in.</p> + +<p>"What a fool I am not to take that bullet from her," thought Miss +Greeby, standing irresolutely before the vehicle, and she cast a glance +around to see if such an idea was feasible. It was not, as she speedily +decided, for a single cry from Chaldea would bring the gypsies round to +protect their new queen. It was probable also that the girl would fight +like a wild cat; although Miss Greeby felt that she could manage her so +far. But she was not equal to fighting the whole camp of vagrants, and +so was compelled to abandon her scheme. In a somewhat discontented mood, +she turned away, feeling that, so far, Chaldea had the whip-hand.</p> + +<p>Then it occurred to her that she had not yet examined Mother Cockleshell +as had been her original intention when she came to the camp. Forthwith +she passed back to the tent under the elm, to interview the deposed +queen. Here, she found Gentilla Stanley placing her goods in an untidy +bundle on the back of a large gray donkey, which was her private +property. The old creature's eyes were red with weeping and her gray +hair had fallen down, so that she presented a somewhat wild appearance. +This, in connection with her employment, reminded Miss Greeby—whose +reading was wide—of a similar scene in Borrow's "Lavengro," when Mrs. +Pentulengro's mother shifted herself. And for the moment Mother +Cockleshell had just the hairy looks of Mrs. Hern, and also at the +moment, probably had the same amiable feelings.</p> + +<p>Feeling that the old woman detested her successful rival, Miss Greeby +approached, guessing that now was the right moment to work on her mind, +and thus to learn what she could of Chaldea's underhand doings. She +quite expected a snub, as Gentilla could scarcely be expected to answer +questions when taken up with her own troubles. But the artful creature, +seeing by a side-glance that Miss Greeby was a wealthy Gentile lady, +dropped one of her almshouse curtseys when she approached, and bundled +up her hair. A change passed over her withered face, and Miss Greeby +found herself addressing not so much a fallen queen, as a respectable +old woman who had known better days.</p> + +<p>"And a blessing on your sweet face, my angel," mumbled Mother +Cockleshell. "For a heart you have to feel for my sorrows."</p> + +<p>"Here is a sign of my feelings," said Miss Greeby, handing over a +sovereign, for she rightly judged that the gypsy would only appreciate +this outward symbol of sympathy. "Now, what do you know of Pine's +murder?"</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell, who was busy tying up the sovereign in a corner of +her respectable shawl, after biting it to make sure it was current gold, +looked up with a vacant expression. "Murder, my lady, and what should I +know of that?"</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby looked at her straightly. "What does Chaldea know of it?"</p> + +<p>A vicious pair of devils looked out of the decent widow's eyes in a +moment, and at once she became the Romany. "Hai! She knows, does she, +the drab! I hope to see her hanged."</p> + +<p>"For what?"</p> + +<p>"For killing of Hearne, may his bones rest sweetly."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby suppressed an exclamation. "She accuses Lady Agnes of laying +a trap by writing a letter, and says that Mr. Lambert fired the shot."</p> + +<p>"Avali! Avali!" Mother Cockleshell nodded vigorously, but did not +interrupt her preparations for departure. "That she would say, since she +loves the Gorgio, and hates the rani. A rope round her neck to set the +rye free to make Chaldea—my curses on her—his true wife."</p> + +<p>"She couldn't have fired the shot herself, you know," went on Miss +Greeby in a musing manner. "For then she would remove an obstacle to Mr. +Lambert marrying Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"Blessings on her for a kind, Gentile lady," said Gentilla, piously, +and looking more respectable than ever, since the lurking devils had +disappeared. "But Chaldea is artful, and knows the rye."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"This, my lady. Hearne, who was the Gorgio Pine, had the angel to wife, +but he did not hope to live long because of illness."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby nodded. "Consumption, Pine told me."</p> + +<p>"If he had died natural," pursued Mother Cockleshell, pulling hard at a +strap, "maybe the Gentile lady would have married the golden rye, whom +she loves. But by the violent death, Chaldea has tangled up both in her +knots, and if they wed she will make trouble."</p> + +<p>"So she says. But can she?"</p> + +<p>"Hai! But she's a deep one, ma'am, believe me when I say so," Mother +Cockleshell nodded sapiently. "But foolish trouble has she given +herself, when the death of Hearne natural, or by the pistol-shot would +stop the marriage."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" inquired Miss Greeby once more.</p> + +<p>"You Gentiles are fools," said Gentilla, politely. "For you put other +things before true love. Hearne, as Pine, had much gold, and that he +left to his wife should she not marry the golden rye."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>"Chaldea was told so by the dead, and told me, my lady. Now the angel of +the big house would give up the gold to marry the rye, for her heart is +all for him. 'But,' says he, and tell me if I'm wrong. Says he, 'No. If +I make you my romi that would beggar you and fair it would not be, for a +Romany rye to do!' So, my lady, the red gold parts them, because it's +red money."</p> + +<p>"Red money?"</p> + +<p>"Blood money. The taint of blood is on the wealth of the dead one, and +so it divides by a curse the true hearts of the living. You see, my +lady?"</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby did see, and the more readily, since she had heard Lambert +express exactly the sentiments with which the old gypsy credited him. +An overstrained feeling of honor prevented him in any case from making +Agnes his wife, whether the death had come by violence or by natural +causes. But it was amazing that Gentilla should know this, and Miss +Greeby wonderingly asked her how she came by such knowledge. The +respectable widow chuckled.</p> + +<p>"I have witchly ways, ma'am, and the golden rye has talked many a time +to me in my tent, when I told him of the Gorgious lady's goodness to me +when ill. They love—aye, that is sure—but the money divides their +hearts, and that is foolish. Chaldea had no need to shoot to keep them +apart."</p> + +<p>"How do you know she shot Pine?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can say nothing the Poknees would listen to," said Mother +Cockleshell readily. "For I speak only as I think, and not as I know. +But the child was impatient for joy, and hoped by placing the cruel will +between true hearts to gain that of the golden rye for her own part. But +that she will not. Ha! Ha! Nor you, my lady, nor you."</p> + +<p>"Me?" Miss Greeby colored even redder than she was by nature.</p> + +<p>Gentilla looked at her shrewdly. "La! La! La! La!" she croaked. "Age +brings a mighty wisdom. They were fools to throw me out," and she jerked +her grizzled head in the direction of the caravans and tents.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk rubbish, you old donkey! Mr. Lambert is only my friend."</p> + +<p>"You're a woman and he's a man," said Mother Cockleshell sententiously.</p> + +<p>"We are chums, pals, whatever you like to call us. I want to see him +happy."</p> + +<p>"He will never be happy, my lady, unless he marries the rani. And death, +by bringing the money between their true love, has divided them forever, +unless the golden rye puts his heart before his fear of silly chatter +for them he moves amongst. The child was right to shoot Hearne, so far, +although she could have waited and gained the same end. The rye is free +to marry her, or to marry you, ma'am, but never to marry the angel, +unless—" Mother Cockleshell adjusted the bundle carefully on the +donkey, and then cut a long switch from the tree.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to marry Mr. Lambert," said Miss Greeby decisively. "And +I'll take care that Chaldea doesn't!"</p> + +<p>Gentilla chuckled again. "Oh, trust you for that."</p> + +<p>"As to Chaldea shooting Pine—"</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me, leave it to me, ma'am," said the old gypsy with a +grandiloquent wave of her dirty hand.</p> + +<p>"But I wish to learn the truth and save Lady Agnes from this trouble."</p> + +<p>"You wish to save her?" chuckled Mother Cockleshell. "And not the golden +rye? Ah well, my angel, there are women, and women." She faced round, +and the humor died out of her wrinkled face. "You wish for help and so +have come to see me? Is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Greeby tartly. "Chaldea will make trouble."</p> + +<p>"The child won't. I can manage her."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby hitched up her broad shoulders contemptuously. "She has +managed you just now."</p> + +<p>"There are ways and ways, and when the hour arrives, the sun rises to +scatter the darkness," said Gentilla mystically. "Let the child win for +the moment, for my turn comes."</p> + +<p>"Then you know something?"</p> + +<p>"What I know mustn't be said till the hour strikes. But content +yourself, my Gorgious lady, with knowing that the child will make no +trouble."</p> + +<p>"She has parted with the letter?"</p> + +<p>"I know of that letter. Hearne showed it to me, and would make for the +big house, although I told him fair not to doubt his true wife."</p> + +<p>"How did he get the letter?"</p> + +<p>"That's tellings," said Mother Cockleshell with a wink of her lively +eye.</p> + +<p>"I've a good mind to take you to the police, and then you'd be forced +to say what you know," said Miss Greeby crossly, for the vague hints +irritated her not a little.</p> + +<p>The old woman cackled in evident enjoyment. "Do that, and the pot will +boil over, ma'am. I wish to help the angel rani who nursed me when I was +sick, and I have debts to pay to Chaldea. Both I do in my own witchly +way."</p> + +<p>"You will help me to learn the truth?"</p> + +<p>"Surely! Surely! my Gorgious one. And now," Mother Cockleshell gave a +tug at the donkey's mouth, "I goes my ways."</p> + +<p>"But where can I find you again?"</p> + +<p>"When the time comes the mouth will open, and them as thinks they're +high will find themselves in the dust. Aye, and maybe lower, if six feet +of good earth lies atop, and them burning in lime, uncoffined and +unblessed."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby was masculine and fearless, but there was something so weird +about this mystic sentence, which hinted at capital punishment, that she +shrank back nervously. Mother Cockleshell, delighted to see that she had +made an impression, climbed on to the gray donkey and made a progress +through the camp. Passing by Chaldea's caravan she spat on it and +muttered a word or so, which did not indicate that she wished a blessing +to rest on it. Chaldea did not show herself, so the deposed queen was +accompanied to the outskirts of the wood by the elder gypsies, mourning +loudly. But when they finally halted to see the last of Mother +Cockleshell, she raised her hand and spoke authoritatively.</p> + +<p>"I go and I come, my children. Forget not, ye Romans, that I say so +much. When the seed needs rain it falls. Sarishan, brothers and sisters +all." And with this strange speech, mystical to the last, she rode away +into the setting sun, on the gray donkey, looking more like an almshouse +widow than ever.</p> + +<p>As for Miss Greeby, she strode out of the camp and out of the Abbot's +Wood, and made for the Garvington Arms, where she had left her baggage. +What Mother Cockleshell knew, she did not guess; what Mother Cockleshell +intended to do, she could not think; but she was satisfied that Chaldea +would in some way pay for her triumph. And the downfall of the girl was +evidently connected with the unravelling of the murder mystery. In a +witchly way, as the old woman would have said herself, she intended to +adjust matters.</p> + +<p>"I'll leave things so far in her hands," thought Miss Greeby. "Now for +Silver."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV" />CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>GUESSWORK.</h3> + + +<p>Whether Miss Greeby found a difficulty, as was probable, in getting +Silver to hand over the forged letter, or whether she had decided to +leave the solution of this mystery to Mother Cockleshell, it is +impossible to say. But she certainly did not put in an appearance at +Lady Agnes Pine's town house to report progress until after the new +year. Nor in the meantime did she visit Lambert, although she wrote to +say that she induced the secretary to delay his threatened exposure. The +position of things was therefore highly unsatisfactory, since the +consequent suspense was painful both to Agnes and her lover. And of +course the widow had been duly informed of the interview at the cottage, +and naturally expected events to move more rapidly.</p> + +<p>However, taking the wise advice of Isaiah to "Make no haste in time of +trouble," Agnes possessed her soul in patience, and did not seek out +Miss Greeby in any way, either by visiting or by letter. She attended at +her lawyers' offices to supervise her late husband's affairs, and had +frequent consultations with Garvington's solicitors in connection with +the freeing of the Lambert estates. Everything was going on very +satisfactorily, even to the improvement of Lambert's health, so Agnes +was not at all so ill at ease in her mind as might have been expected. +Certainly the sword of Damocles still dangled over her head, and over +the head of Lambert, but a consciousness that they were both innocent, +assured her inwardly that it would not fall. Nevertheless the beginning +of the new year found her in anything but a placid frame of mind. She +was greatly relieved when Miss Greeby at last condescended to pay her a +visit.</p> + +<p>Luckily Agnes was alone when the lady arrived, as Garvington and his +wife were both out enjoying themselves in their several ways. The pair +had been staying with the wealthy widow for Christmas, and had not yet +taken their departure, since Garvington always tried to live at +somebody's expense if possible. He had naturally shut up The Manor +during the festive season, as the villagers expected coals and blankets +and port wine and plum-puddings, which he had neither the money nor the +inclination to supply. In fact, the greedy little man considered that +they should ask for nothing and pay larger rents than they did. By +deserting them when peace on earth and goodwill to men prevailed, or +ought to have prevailed, he disappointed them greatly and chuckled over +their lamentations. Garvington was very human in some ways.</p> + +<p>However, both the corpulent little lord and his untidy wife were out +of the way when Miss Greeby was announced, and Agnes was thankful that +such was the case, since the interview was bound to be an important one. +Miss Greeby, as usual, looked large and aggressively healthy, bouncing +into the room like an india-rubber ball. Her town dress differed very +little from the garb she wore in the country, save that she had a +feather-trimmed hat instead of a man's cap, and carried an umbrella in +place of a bludgeon. A smile, which showed all her strong white teeth in +a somewhat carnivorous way, overspread her face as she shook hands +vigorously with her hostess. And Miss Greeby's grip was so friendly as +to be positively painful.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, Agnes, and here am I. Beastly day, ain't it? Rain and +rain and rain again. Seems as though we'd gone back to Father Noah's +times, don't it?"</p> + +<p>"I expected you before, Clara," remarked Lady Agnes rather hurriedly, +and too full of anxiety to discuss the weather.</p> + +<p>"Well, I intended to come before," confessed Miss Greeby candidly. +"Only, one thing and another prevented me!" Agnes noticed that she did +not specify the hindrances. "It was the deuce's own job to get that +letter. Oh, by the way, I suppose Lambert told you about the letter?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silver told me about it, and I told Noel," responded Agnes gravely. +"I also heard about your interview with—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's ages ago, long before Christmas. I should have gone and seen +him, to tell about my experiences at the gypsy camp, but I thought that +I would learn more before making my report as a detective. By the way, +how is Lambert, do you know?"</p> + +<p>"He is all right now, and is in town."</p> + +<p>"At his old rooms, I suppose. For how long? I want to see him."</p> + +<p>"For an indefinite period. Garvington has turned him out of the +cottage."</p> + +<p>"The deuce! What's that for?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Agnes, explaining reluctantly, "you see Noel paid no rent, +as Garvington is his cousin, and when an offer came along offering a +pound a week for the place, Garvington said that he was too poor to +refuse it. So Noel has taken a small house in Kensington, and Mrs. Tribb +has been installed as his housekeeper. I wonder you didn't know these +things."</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" asked Miss Greeby, rather aggressively.</p> + +<p>"Because it is Mr. Silver who has taken the cottage."</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby sat up alertly. "Silver. Oh, indeed. Then that explains why +he asked me for leave to stay in the country. Said his health required +fresh air, and that London got on his nerves. Hum! hum!" Miss Greeby +bit the handle of her umbrella. "So he's taken the Abbot's Wood Cottage, +has he? I wonder what that's for?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, and I don't care," said Agnes restlessly. "Of course I +could have prevented Garvington letting it to him, since he tried to +blackmail me, but I thought it was best to see the letter, and to +understand his meaning more thoroughly before telling my brother about +his impertinence. Noel wanted me to tell, but I decided not to—in the +meantime at all events."</p> + +<p>"Silver's meaning is not hard to understand," said Miss Greeby, drily +and feeling in her pocket. "He wants to get twenty-five thousand pounds +for this." She produced a sheet of paper dramatically. "However, I made +the little animal give it to me for nothing. Never mind what arguments +I used. I got it out of him, and brought it to show you."</p> + +<p>Agnes, paling slightly, took the letter and glanced over it with +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, drawing a long breath, "if I had not been certain that +I never wrote such a letter, I should believe that I did. My handwriting +has certainly been imitated in a wonderfully accurate way."</p> + +<p>"Who imitated it?" asked Miss Greeby, who was watching her eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I can't say. But doesn't Mr. Silver—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he knows nothing, or says that he knows nothing. All he swears to +is that Chaldea found the letter in Pine's tent the day after his +murder, and before Inspector Darby had time to search. The envelope had +been destroyed, so we don't know if the letter was posted or delivered +by hand."</p> + +<p>"If I had written such a letter to Noel," said Agnes quietly, "it +certainly would have been delivered by hand."</p> + +<p>"In which case Pine might have intercepted the messenger," put in Miss +Greeby. "It couldn't have been sent by post, or Pine would not have got +hold of it, unless he bribed Mrs. Tribb into giving it up."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Tribb is not open to bribery, Clara. And as to the letter, I never +wrote it, nor did Noel ever receive it."</p> + +<p>"It was written from The Manor, anyhow," said Miss Greeby bluntly. "Look +at the crest and the heading. Someone in the house wrote it, if you +didn't."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of that. The paper might have been stolen."</p> + +<p>"Well." Miss Greeby again bit her umbrella handle reflectively. "There's +something in that, Agnes. Chaldea told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune in the +park, and afterwards she came to the drawing-room to tell it again. I +wonder if she stole the paper while she was in the house."</p> + +<p>"Even if she did, an uneducated gypsy could not have forged the letter."</p> + +<p>"She might have got somebody to do so," suggested Miss Greeby, nodding.</p> + +<p>"Then the somebody must be well acquainted with my handwriting," +retorted Lady Agnes, and began to study the few lines closely.</p> + +<p>She might have written it herself, so much did it resemble her style of +writing. The terse communication stated that the writer, who signed +herself "Agnes Pine," would meet "her dearest Noel" outside the blue +door, shortly after midnight, and hoped that he would have the motor at +the park gates to take them to London en route to Paris. "Hubert is sure +to get a divorce," ended the letter, "and then we can marry at once and +be happy ever more."</p> + +<p>It was certainly a silly letter, and Agnes laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I don't express myself in that way," she said contemptuously, and +still eyeing the writing wonderingly. "And as I respected my husband and +respect myself, I should never have thought of eloping with my cousin, +especially from Garvington's house, when I had much better and safer +chances of eloping in town. Had Noel received this, he would never have +believed that I wrote it, as I assuredly did not. And a 'motor at the +park gates,'" she read. "Why not at the postern gate, which leads to the +blue door? that would have been safer and more reasonable. Pah! I never +heard such rubbish," and she folded up the letter to slip it into her +pocket.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby looked rather aghast. "Oh, you must give it back to me," she +said hurriedly. "I have to look into the case, you know."</p> + +<p>"I shall not give it back to you," said Agnes in a determined manner. +"It is in my possession and shall remain there. I wish to show it to +Noel."</p> + +<p>"And what am I to say to Silver?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you like. You can manage him, you know."</p> + +<p>"He'll make trouble."</p> + +<p>"Now that he has lost this weapon"—Agnes touched her pocket—"he +can't."</p> + +<p>"Well"—Miss Greeby shrugged her big shoulders and stood up—"just as +you please. But it would be best to leave the letter and the case in my +hands."</p> + +<p>"I think not," rejoined Agnes decisively. "Noel is now quite well again, +and I prefer him to take charge of the matter himself."</p> + +<p>"Is that all the thanks I get for my trouble?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Clara," said the other cordially, "I am ever so much obliged to +you for robbing Mr. Silver of this letter. But I don't wish to put you +to any more trouble."</p> + +<p>"Just as you please," said Miss Greeby again, and rather sullenly. "I +wash my hands of the business, and if Silver makes trouble you have +only yourself to thank. I advise you also, Agnes, to see Mother +Cockleshell and learn what she has to say."</p> + +<p>"Does she know anything?"</p> + +<p>"She gave me certain mysterious hints that she did. But she appears to +have a great opinion of you, my dear, so she may be more open with you +than she was with me."</p> + +<p>"Where is she to be found?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Chaldea is queen of the tribe, which is still camped on +the outskirts of Abbot's Wood. Mother Cockleshell has gone away on her +own. Have you any idea who wrote the letter?"</p> + +<p>Agnes took out the forged missive again and studied it. "Not in the +least," she said, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>"Do you know of any one who can imitate your handwriting?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know—oh," she stopped suddenly and grew as white as the +widow's cap she wore. "Oh," she said blankly.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" demanded Miss Greeby, on fire with curiosity. "Have you +thought of any one?"</p> + +<p>Agnes shook her head again and placed the letter in her pocket. "I can +think of no one," she said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby did not entirely believe this, as the sudden hesitation and +the paleness hinted at some unexpected thought, probably connected with +the forgery. However, since she had done all she could, it was best, as +she judged, to leave things in the widow's hands. "I'm tired of the +whole business," said Miss Greeby carelessly. "It wouldn't do for me to +be a detective, as I have no staying power, and get sick of things. +Still, if you want me, you know where to send for me, and at all events +I've drawn Silver's teeth."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear; thank you very much," said Agnes mechanically, so the +visitor took her leave, wondering what was rendering her hostess so +absent-minded. A very persistent thought told her that Agnes had made a +discovery in connection with the letter, but since she would not impart +that thought there was no more to be said.</p> + +<p>When Miss Greeby left the house and was striding down the street, Agnes +for the third time took the letter from her pocket and studied every +line of the writing. It was wonderfully like her own, she thought again, +and yet wondered both at the contents and at the signature. "I should +never have written in this way to Noel," she reflected. "And certainly +I should never have signed myself 'Agnes Pine' to so intimate a note. +However, we shall see," and with this cryptic thought she placed the +letter in her desk.</p> + +<p>When Garvington and his wife returned they found Agnes singularly quiet +and pale. The little man did not notice this, as he never took any +interest in other people's emotions, but his wife asked questions to +which she received no answers, and looked at Agnes uneasily, when she +saw that she did not eat any dinner to speak of. Lady Garvington was +very fond of her kind-hearted sister-in-law, and would have been glad to +know what was troubling her. But Agnes kept her worries to herself, and +insisted that Jane should go to the pantomime, as she had arranged with +some friends instead of remaining at home. But when Garvington moved to +leave the drawing-room, after drinking his coffee, his sister detained +him.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come to the library to write a letter for me, Freddy," +she said in a tremulous voice.</p> + +<p>"Can't you write it yourself?" said Garvington selfishly, as he was in a +hurry to get to his club.</p> + +<p>"No, dear. I am so tired," sighed Agnes, passing her hand across her +brow.</p> + +<p>"Then you should have kept on Silver as your secretary," grumbled +Garvington. "However, if it won't take long, I don't mind obliging you." +He followed her into the library, and took his seat at the writing +table. "Who is the letter to?" he demanded, taking up a pen in a hurry.</p> + +<p>"To Mr. Jarwin. I want him to find out where Gentilla Stanley is. It's +only a formal letter, so write it and sign it on my behalf."</p> + +<p>"Like an infernal secretary," sighed Garvington, taking paper and +squaring his elbows. "What do you want with old Mother Cockleshell?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Greeby was here to-day and told me that the woman knows something +about poor Hubert's death."</p> + +<p>Garvington's pen halted for a moment, but he did not look round. "What +can she possibly know?" he demanded irritably.</p> + +<p>"That's what I shall find out when Mr. Jarwin discovers her," said +Agnes, who was in a low chair near the fire. "By the way, Freddy, I am +sorry you let the Abbot's Wood Cottage to Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I?" growled Garvington, writing industriously. "Noel +didn't pay me a pound a week, and Silver does."</p> + +<p>"You might have a more respectable tenant," said Agnes scathingly.</p> + +<p>"Who says Silver isn't respectable?" he asked, looking round.</p> + +<p>"I do, and I have every reason to say so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" Garvington began to write again. "Silver was Pine's +secretary, and now he's Miss Greeby's. They wouldn't have engaged him +unless he was respectable, although he did start life as a pauper +toymaker. I suppose that is what you mean, Agnes. I'm surprised at your +narrowness."</p> + +<p>"Ah, we have not all your tolerance, Freddy. Have you finished that +letter?"</p> + +<p>"There you are." Garvington handed it over. "You don't want me to +address the envelope?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," Agnes ran her eyes over the missive; "and you can add a +postscript to this, telling Mr. Jarwin he can take my motor to look for +Gentilla Stanley if he chooses."</p> + +<p>Garvington did as he was asked reluctantly. "Though I don't see why +Jarwin can't supply his own motors," he grumbled, "and ten to one he'll +only put an advertisement in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>"As if Mother Cockleshell ever saw a newspaper," retorted his sister. +"Oh, thank you, Freddy, you are good," she went on when he handed her +the letter in a newly addressed envelope; "no, don't go, I want to speak +to you about Mr. Silver."</p> + +<p>Garvington threw himself with a growl into a chair. "I don't know +anything about him except that he's my tenant," he complained.</p> + +<p>"Then it is time you did. Perhaps you are not aware that Mr. Silver +tried to blackmail me."</p> + +<p>"What?" the little man grew purple and exploded. "Oh, nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"It's anything but nonsense." Agnes rose and went to her desk to get the +forged letter. "He came to me a long time before Christmas and said that +Chaldea found this," she flourished the letter before her brother's +eyes, "in Hubert's tent when he was masquerading as Hearne."</p> + +<p>"A letter? What does it say?" Garvington stretched out his hand.</p> + +<p>Agnes drew back and returned to her seat by the fire. "I can tell you +the contents," she said coolly, "it is supposed to be written by me to +Noel and makes an appointment to meet him at the blue door on the night +of Hubert's death in order to elope."</p> + +<p>"Agnes, you never wrote such a letter," cried Garvington, jumping up +with a furious red face.</p> + +<p>His sister did not answer for a moment. She had taken the letter just +written to Jarwin by Garvington and was comparing it with that which +Miss Greeby had extorted from Silver. "No," she said in a strange voice +and becoming white, "I never wrote such a letter; but I should be glad +to know why you did."</p> + +<p>"I did?" Garvington retreated and his face became as white as that of +the woman who confronted him, "what the devil do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I always knew that you were clever at imitating handwriting, Freddy," +said Agnes, while the two letters shook in her grasp, "we used to make a +joke of it, I remember. But it was no joke when you altered that check +Hubert gave you, and none when you imitated his signature to that +mortgage about which he told me."</p> + +<p>"I never—I never!" stammered the detected little scoundrel, holding on +to a chair for support. "I never—"</p> + +<p>"Spare me these lies," interrupted his sister scornfully, "Hubert showed +the mortgage, when it came into his possession, to me. He admitted that +his signature was legal to spare you, and also, for my sake, hushed up +the affair of the check. He warned you against playing with fire, +Freddy, and now you have done so again, to bring about his death."</p> + +<p>"It's a damned lie."</p> + +<p>"It's a damned truth," retorted Agnes fiercely. "I got you to write the +letter to Mr. Jarwin so that I might compare the signature to the one in +the forged letter. Agnes Pine in one and Agnes Pine in the other, both +with the same twists and twirls—very, very like my signature and yet +with a difference that I alone can detect. The postscript about the +motor I asked you to write because the word occurs in the forged letter. +Motor and motor—both the same."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie," denied Garvington again. "I have not imitated your +handwriting in the letter to Jarwin."</p> + +<p>"You unconsciously imitated the signature, and you have written the word +motor the same in both letters," said Agnes decisively. "I suddenly +thought of your talent for writing like other people when Clara Greeby +asked me to-day if I could guess who had forged the letter. I laid a +trap for you and you have fallen into it. And you"—she took a step +forward with fiery glance so that Garvington, retreating, nearly tumbled +over a chair—"you laid a trap for Hubert into which he fell."</p> + +<p>"I never did—I never did!" babbled Garvington, gray with fear.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did. I swear to it. Now I understand why you threatened to +shoot any possible burglar who should come to The Manor. You learned, in +some way, I don't know how, that Hubert was with the gypsies, and, +knowing his jealous nature, you wrote this letter and let it fall into +his hands, so that he might risk being shot as a robber and a thief."</p> + +<p>"I—I—I—didn't shoot him," panted the man brokenly.</p> + +<p>"It was not for the want of trying. You broke his arm, and probably +would have followed him out to inflict a mortal wound if your accomplice +in the shrubbery had not been beforehand with you."</p> + +<p>"Agnes, I swear that I took Pine for a burglar, and I don't know who +shot him. Really, I don't!"</p> + +<p>"You liar!" said Agnes with intense scorn. "When you posted your +accompl—"</p> + +<p>She had no chance to finish the word, for Garvington broke in furiously +and made a great effort to assert himself. "I had no accomplice. Who +shot Pine I don't know. I never wrote the letter; I never lured him to +his death; he was more good to me alive than dead. He never—"</p> + +<p>"He was not more good to you alive than dead," interrupted Lady Agnes in +her turn. "For Hubert despised you for the way in which you tried to +trick him out of money. He thought you little better than a criminal, +and only hushed up your wickedness for my sake. You would have got no +more money out of him, and you know that much. By killing him you hoped +that I would get the fortune and then you could plunder me at your +leisure. Hubert was hard to manage, and you thought that I would be +easy. Well, I have got the money and you have got rid of Hubert. But I +shall punish you."</p> + +<p>"Punish me?" Garvington passed his tongue over his dry lips, and looked +as though in his terror he would go down on his knees to plead.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not by denouncing you to the police," said his sister +contemptuously. "For, bad as you are, I have to consider our family +name. But you had Hubert shot so as to get the money through me, and +now that I am in possession I shall surrender it to the person named +in the sealed envelope."</p> + +<p>"No! No! No! No! Don't—don't—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall. I can do so by marrying Noel. I shall no longer consider +the financial position of the family. I have sacrificed enough, and I +shall sacrifice no more. Hubert was a good husband to me, and I was a +good and loyal wife to him; but his will insults me, and you have made +me your enemy by what you have done."</p> + +<p>"I did not do it. I swear I did not do it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did; and no denial on your part will make me believe +otherwise. I shall give you a few days to think over the necessity of +making a confession, and in any case I shall marry Noel."</p> + +<p>"And lose the money. You shan't!"</p> + +<p>"Shan't!" Agnes stepped forward and looked fairly into his shifty eyes. +"You are not in a position to say that, Freddy. I am mistress both of +the situation and of Hubert's millions. Go away," she pushed him toward +the door. "Take time to think over your position, and confess everything +to me."</p> + +<p>Garvington got out of the room as swiftly as his shaky legs could carry +him, and paused at the door to turn with a very evil face. "You daren't +split on me," he screeched. "I defy you! I defy you! You daren't split +on me."</p> + +<p>Alas! Agnes knew that only too well, and when he disappeared she wept +bitterly, feeling her impotence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI" />CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE LAST STRAW.</h3> + + +<p>Lady Agnes was inaccurate when she informed Miss Greeby that her cousin +had taken a house in Kensington, since, like many women, she was +accustomed to speak in general terms, rather than in a precise way. The +young man certainly did live in the suburb she mentioned, but he had +simply rented a furnished flat in one of the cheaper streets. He was the +poorest of all the Lamberts, and could scarcely pay his club +subscriptions, much less live in the style his ancient name demanded. +The St. James's chambers had merely been lent to him by a friend, and +when the owner returned, the temporary occupant had to shift. Therefore, +on the score of economy, he hired the dingy flat and brought up Mrs. +Tribb to look after it. The little woman, on her master's account, was +disgusted with the mean surroundings.</p> + +<p>"When you ought to be living in a kind of Buckingham Palace, Master +Noel, as I should declare with my dying breath," she said indignantly. +"And have the title, too, if things was as they ought to be."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be much better off if I did have the title, Mrs. Tribb," +replied Lambert with a shrug. "It's common knowledge that Garvington can +scarcely keep his head above water. As an old family servant you should +know."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Master Noel, there's many things as I know, as I'm sorry I do +know," said Mrs. Tribb incoherently. "And them lords as is dead and +buried did waste the money, there's no denying. But some of your +cousins, Master Noel, have gone into trade and made money, more shame to +them."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that, Mrs. Tribb. I'd go into trade myself if I had any +head for figures. There's no disgrace in trade."</p> + +<p>"Not for them as isn't Lamberts, Master Noel, and far be it from me to +say so, gentry not being so rich as they used to be when my mother was a +gal. I don't hold with it though for you, sir. But now Lady Agnes having +millions and billions will make things easier for you."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Mrs. Tribb. How could I take money from her?"</p> + +<p>"And why not, Master Noel? if you'll excuse my making so free. As a +child she'd give you anything in the way of toys, and as a grown-up, her +head is yours if not her heart, as is—"</p> + +<p>"There! there! Don't talk any more," said Lambert, coloring and vexed.</p> + +<p>"I haven't annoyed you, sir, I hope. It's my heart as speaks."</p> + +<p>"I appreciate the interest you take in the family, Mrs. Tribb, but you +had better leave some things unsaid. Now, go and prepare tea, as Lady +Agnes has written saying she will be here this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Master Noel, and you only tell me now. Then there ain't time to +cook them cakes she dotes on."</p> + +<p>But Lambert declined to argue further, and Mrs. Tribb withdrew, +murmuring that she would have to make shift with sardine sandwiches. Her +tongue was assuredly something of a nuisance, but the young man knew how +devoted she was to the family, and, since she had looked after him when +he was a child, he sanctioned in her a freedom he would not have +permitted any one else to indulge in. And it is to be feared, that the +little woman in her zeal sometimes abused her privileges.</p> + +<p>The sitting room was small and cramped, and atrociously furnished in an +overcrowded way. There were patterns on the wall-paper, on the carpet, +on the tablecloth and curtains, until the eye ached for a clean surface +without a design. And there were so many ill-matched colors, misused for +decorative purposes, that Lambert shuddered to the core of his artistic +soul when he beheld them. To neutralize the glaring tints, he pulled +down the blinds of the two windows which looked on to a dull suburban +roadway, and thus shut out the weak sunshine. Then he threw himself into +an uncomfortable arm-chair and sought solace in his briar root. The +future was dark, the present was disagreeable, and the past would not +bear thinking about, so intimately did it deal with the murder of Pine, +the threats of Silver, and the misery occasioned by the sacrifice of +Agnes to the family fetish. It was in the young man's mind to leave +England forthwith and begin a new life, unhampered by former troubles +and present grievances. But Agnes required help and could not be left to +struggle unaided, so Lambert silently vowed again, as he had vowed +before, to stand by her to the end. Yet so far he was unable to see what +the end would be.</p> + +<p>While he thus contemplated the unpleasantness of life he became aware +that the front door bell was ringing, and he heard Mrs. Tribb hurrying +along the passage. So thin were the walls, and so near the door that he +heard also the housekeeper's effusive welcome, which was cut short by a +gasp of surprise. Lambert idly wondered what caused the little woman's +astonishment, but speedily learned when Agnes appeared in the room. With +rare discretion Mrs. Tribb ushered in the visitor and then fled to the +kitchen to wonder why the widow had discarded her mourning. "And him +only planted six months, as you might say," murmured the puzzled woman. +"Whatever will Master Noel say to such goings on?"</p> + +<p>Master Noel said nothing, because he was too astonished to speak, and +Agnes, seeing his surprise, and guessing its cause, waited, somewhat +defiantly, for him to make an observation. She was dressed in a gray +silk frock, with a hat and gloves, and shoes to match, and drew off a +fur-lined cloak of maroon-colored velvet, when she entered the room. Her +face was somewhat pale and her eyes looked unnaturally large, but she +had a resolute expression about her mouth, which showed that she had +made up her mind. Lambert, swift, from long association, to read her +moods, wondered what conclusion she had arrived at, and proceeded to +inquire.</p> + +<p>"Whatever is the meaning of this?" he demanded, considerably startled.</p> + +<p>"This dress?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. Where is your widow's cap and—"</p> + +<p>"In the fire, and there they can remain until they are burned to ashes."</p> + +<p>Lambert stared harder than ever. "What does it mean?" he asked again.</p> + +<p>"It means," said Agnes, replying very directly, "that the victim is no +longer decked out for the sacrifice. It means, that as Hubert insulted +me by his will, I no longer intend to consider his memory."</p> + +<p>"But, Agnes, you respected him. You always said that you did?"</p> + +<p>"Quite so, until his will was read. Then when I found that his mean +jealousy—which was entirely unreasonable—had arranged to rob me of my +income by preventing my marriage with you, I ceased to have any regard +for him. Hubert knew that I loved you, and was content to take me on +those terms so long as I was loyal to him. I <i>was</i> loyal, and did what +I could to show him gratitude for the way in which he helped the family. +Now his will has broken the bargain I respect him no longer, and for +that reason I refuse to pose any longer as a grieving widow."</p> + +<p>"I wonder, with these thoughts, that you posed at all," said Lambert +gloomily, and pushed forward a chair.</p> + +<p>"I could not make up my mind until lately what to do," explained Agnes, +sitting down gracefully, "and while I accepted his money it appeared to +me that I ought to show his memory the outward respect of crape and all +the rest of it. Now," she leaned forward and spoke meaningly, "I am +resolved to surrender the money. That breaks the link between us. The +will! the will!" she tapped an impatient foot on the carpet. "How could +you expect any woman to put up with such an insult?"</p> + +<p>Lambert dropped on the sofa and looked at her hard. "What's up?" he +asked anxiously. "I never saw you like this before."</p> + +<p>"I was not free when you last saw me," she replied dryly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; you were a widow."</p> + +<p>"I mean free, in my own mind, to marry you. I am now. I don't intend to +consider the family or society, or Mr. Silver's threats, or anything +else. I have shaken off my fetters; I have discarded my ring." She +violently pulled off her glove to show that the circle of gold was +absent. "I am free, and I thank God that I am free."</p> + +<p>"Agnes! Agnes! I can't reduce you to poverty by marrying you. It would +not be honorable of me."</p> + +<p>"And would it be honorable on my part for me to keep the money of a man +I despise because his will insults me?" she retorted.</p> + +<p>"We argued all this before."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we did, and concluded to wait until we saw how the estates could +be freed before we came to any conclusion."</p> + +<p>"And do you see now how the estates can be freed without using Pine's +money, Agnes?" asked Lambert anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No. Things are ever so much worse than I thought. Garvington can hold +out for another year, but at the end of twelve months the estates will +be sold up by the person whose name is in the sealed envelope, and he +will be reduced to some hundreds a year. The Lamberts!" she waved her +arm dramatically, "are ruined, my dear; entirely ruined!"</p> + +<p>"And for the simple reason that you wish us to place love before duty."</p> + +<p>Agnes leaned forward and took his hand firmly. "Noel, you love me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do."</p> + +<p>"Do you love the family name better?"</p> + +<p>"In one way I wish to save it, in another I am willing to let it go +hang."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Those were my views until three or four days ago."</p> + +<p>"And what caused you to change your mind, dear?"</p> + +<p>"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me."</p> + +<p>"Oh." Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, +has she?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service."</p> + +<p>Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greeby +really had meant to renounce her absurd passion for himself, and it was +a relief to find that she had been acting honestly. "Has she then +learned who killed Pine?" he asked cautiously.</p> + +<p>Lady Agnes suddenly rose and began to pace the room, twisting her gloves +and trying to control herself. Usually she was so composed that Lambert +wondered at this restlessness. He wondered still more when she burst +into violent tears, and therefore hastened to draw her back to the +chair. When she was seated he knelt beside her and passed his arm round +her neck, as distressed as she was. It was so unlike Agnes to break down +in this way, and more unlike her to sob brokenly. "Oh, I'm afraid—I'm +afraid."</p> + +<p>"Afraid of what, darling?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid to learn who killed my husband. He might have done so, and +yet he only fired the first shot—"</p> + +<p>"Agnes," Lambert rose up suddenly, "are you talking of Garvington?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." She leaned back and dried her tears. "In spite of what he says, +I am afraid he may be guilty."</p> + +<p>Lambert's heart seemed to stand still. "You talk rubbish!" he cried +angrily.</p> + +<p>"I wish it was. Oh, how I wish it was rubbish! But I can't be sure. Of +course, he may have meant what he says—"</p> + +<p>"What does he say? Tell me everything. Oh, heavens!" Lambert clutched +his smooth hair. "What does it all mean?"</p> + +<p>"Ruin to the Lambert family. I told you so."</p> + +<p>"You have only told me scraps so far. I don't understand how you can +arrive at the conclusion that Garvington is guilty. Agnes, don't go on +crying in so unnecessary a way. If things have to be faced, surely we +are strong enough to face them. Don't let our emotions make fools of us. +Stop it! Stop it!" he said sharply and stamping. "Dry your eyes and +explain matters."</p> + +<p>"I—I can't help my feelings," faltered Agnes, beginning to respond to +the spur, and becoming calmer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you can. I don't offer you brandy or smelling salts, or anything +of the sort, because I know you to be a woman with a firm mind. Exert +your will, and compel your nerves to be calm. This exhibition is too +cheap."</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Agnes indignantly, and this feeling was the one Lambert +wished to arouse, "how can you talk so?"</p> + +<p>"Because I love you and respect you," he retorted.</p> + +<p>She knew that he meant what he said, and that her firmness of mind and +self-control had always appealed to him, therefore she made a great +effort and subdued her unruly nerves. Lambert gave her no assistance, +and merely walked up and down the room while waiting for her to recover. +It was not easy for her to be herself immediately, as she really was +shaken, and privately considered that he expected too much. But pride +came to her aid, and she gradually became more composed. Meanwhile +Lambert pulled up the blind to display the ugly room in all its +deformity, and the sight—as he guessed it would—extorted an +exclamation from her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can you live in this horrid place?" she asked irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"Necessity knows no law. Are you better?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am all right. But you are brutal, Noel."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have been brutal to a weaker woman," he answered. "And by +acting as I have done, I show how much I think of you."</p> + +<p>"Rather a strange way of showing approval. But your drastic methods have +triumphed. I am quite composed, and shall tell you of our disgrace in as +unemotional a manner as if I were reckoning pounds, shillings and +pence."</p> + +<p>"Disgrace?" Lambert fastened on the one word anxiously. "To us?"</p> + +<p>"To Garvington in the first place. But sit down and listen. I shall +tell you everything, from the moment Clara came to see me."</p> + +<p>Lambert nodded and resumed his seat. Agnes, with wonderful coolness, +detailed Miss Greeby's visit and production of the letter. Thence she +passed on to explain how she had tricked Garvington into confession. +"But he did not confess," interrupted Lambert at this point.</p> + +<p>"Not at the moment. He did yesterday in a letter to me. You see, he left +my house immediately and slept at his club. Then he went down to The +Manor and sent for Jane, who, by the way, knows nothing of what I have +explained. Here are two letters," added Agnes, taking an envelope out of +her pocket. "One is the forged one, and the other came from Garvington +yesterday. Even though he is not imitating my writing, you can see every +now and then the similarity. Perhaps there is a family resemblance in +our caligraphy." Her cousin examined the two epistles with a rather +scared look, for there was no doubt that things looked black against the +head of the family. However, he did not read Garvington's letter, but +asked Agnes to explain. "What excuse does he make for forging your +name?" asked Lambert in a business-like way, for there was no need to +rage over such a worm as Freddy.</p> + +<p>"A very weak one," she replied. "So weak that I scarcely believe him to +be in earnest. Besides, Freddy always was a liar. He declares that when +he went to see about getting the gypsies turned off the land, he caught +sight of Hubert. He did not speak to him, but learned the truth from +Mr. Silver, whom he forced to speak. Then he wrote the letter and let it +purposely fall into Mr. Silver's hands, and by Mr. Silver it was passed +on to Hubert. Freddy writes that he only wanted to hurt Hubert so that +he might be laid up in bed at The Manor. When he was weak—Hubert, I +mean—Freddy then intended to get all the money he could out of him."</p> + +<p>"He did not wish to kill Pine, then?"</p> + +<p>"No. And all the evidence goes to show that he only broke Hubert's arm."</p> + +<p>"That is true," murmured Lambert thoughtfully, "for the evidence of the +other guests and of the servants showed plainly at the inquest that the +second shot was fired outside while Garvington was indoors."</p> + +<p>Agnes nodded. "Yes; it really seems as though Freddy for once in his +life is telling the exact truth."</p> + +<p>Her cousin glanced at Garvington's lengthy letter of explanation. "Do +you really believe that he hoped to manage Pine during the illness?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Agnes reluctantly, "Freddy has tremendous faith in his +powers of persuasion. Hubert would do nothing more for him since he was +such a cormorant for money. But if Hubert had been laid up with a broken +arm, it is just possible that he might have been worried into doing what +Freddy wanted, if only to get rid of his importunity."</p> + +<p>"Hum! It sounds weak. Garvington certainly winged Pine, so that seems to +corroborate the statement in this letter. He's such a good shot that he +could easily have killed Pine if he wanted to."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't think that Freddy is responsible for the death?" +inquired Agnes with a look of relief.</p> + +<p>Lambert appeared worried. "I think not, dear. He lured Hubert into +his own private trap so as to get him laid up and extort money. +Unfortunately, another person, aware of the trap, waited outside and +killed your poor husband."</p> + +<p>"According to what Freddy says, Mr. Silver knew of the trap, since he +delivered the letter to Hubert. And Mr. Silver knew that Freddy had +threatened to shoot any possible burglar. It seems to me," ended Agnes +deliberately, "that Mr. Silver is guilty."</p> + +<p>"But why should he shoot Pine, to whom he owed so much?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say."</p> + +<p>"And, remember, Silver was inside the house."</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Lady Agnes, in dismay. "That is true. It is a great +puzzle, Noel. However, I am not trying to solve it. Clara says that Mr. +Silver will hold his tongue, and certainly as the letter is now in my +possession he cannot bring forward any evidence to show that I am +inculpated in the matter. I think the best thing to do is to let Freddy +and Mr. Silver fight out the matter between them, while we are on our +honeymoon."</p> + +<p>Lambert started. "Agnes! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>She grew impatient. "Oh, what is the use of asking what I mean when you +know quite well, Noel? Hubert insulted me in his will, and cast a slur +on my character by forbidding me to marry you. Freddy—although he did +not fire the second shot—certainly lured Hubert to his death by forging +that letter. I don't intend to consider my husband's memory any more, +nor my brother's position. I shall never speak to him again if I can +help it, as he is a wicked little animal. I have sacrificed myself +sufficiently, and now I intend to take my own way. Let the millions go, +and let Freddy be ruined, if only to punish him for his wickedness."</p> + +<p>"But, dear, how can I ask you to share my poverty?" said Lambert, +greatly distressed. "I have only five hundred a year, and you have been +accustomed to such luxury."</p> + +<p>"I have another five hundred a year of my own," said Agnes obstinately, +"which Hubert settled on me for pin money. He refused to make any other +settlements. I have a right to that money, since I sacrificed so much, +and I shall keep it. Surely we can live on one thousand a year."</p> + +<p>"In England?" inquired Lambert doubtfully. "And after you have led such +a luxurious life?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said quickly. "I mean in the Colonies. Let us go to Australia, +or Canada, or South Africa, I don't care which, and cut ourselves off +from the past. We have suffered enough; let us now think of ourselves."</p> + +<p>"But are we not selfish to let the family name be disgraced?"</p> + +<p>"Freddy is selfish, and will disgrace it in any case," said Agnes, with +a contemptuous shrug. "What's the use of pulling him out of the mud, +when he will only sink back into it again? No, Noel, if you love me you +will marry me within the week."</p> + +<p>"But it's so sudden, dear," he urged, more and more distressed. "Take +time to consider. How can I rob you of millions?"</p> + +<p>"You won't rob me. If you refuse, I shall make over the money to some +charity, and live on my five hundred a year. Remember, Noel, what people +think of me: that I married Hubert to get his money and to become your +wife when he died, so that we could live on his wealth. We can only +prove that belief to be false by surrendering the millions and marrying +as paupers."</p> + +<p>"You may be right, and yet—"</p> + +<p>"And yet, and yet—oh," she cried, wounded, "you don't love me."</p> + +<p>The man did not answer, but stood looking at her with all his soul in +his eyes, and shaking from head to foot. Never before had she looked so +desirable, and never before had he felt the tides of love surge to so +high a Water-mark. "Love you!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Agnes, I +would give my soul for you."</p> + +<p>"Then give it." She wreathed her arms round his neck and whispered with +her warm lips close to his ear, "Give me all of you."</p> + +<p>"But two millions—"</p> + +<p>"You are worth it."</p> + +<p>"Darling, you will repent."</p> + +<p>"Repent!" She pressed him closer to her. "Repent that I exchange a +lonely life for companionship with you? Oh, my dear, how can you think +so? I am sick of money and sick of loneliness. I want you, you, you! +Noel, Noel, it is your part to woo, and here am I making all the love."</p> + +<p>"It is such a serious step for you to take."</p> + +<p>"It is the only step that I can take. I am known as a mercenary woman, +and until we marry and give up the money, everybody will think +scornfully of me. Besides, Freddy must be punished, and in no other way +can I make him suffer so much as by depriving him of the wealth he +sinned to obtain."</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is that view, certainly. And," Lambert gasped, "I love +you—oh, never doubt that, my darling."</p> + +<p>"I shall," she whispered ardently, "unless you get a special license +and marry me straightaway."</p> + +<p>"But Garvington and Silver—"</p> + +<p>"And Clara Greeby and Chaldea, who both love you," she mocked. "Let them +all fight out their troubles alone. I have had enough suffering; so have +you. So there's no more to be said. Now, sir," she added playfully, +"wilt thou take this woman to be thy wedded wife?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, opening his arms and gathering Agnes to his heart. "But +what will people say of your marrying so soon after Pine's death?"</p> + +<p>"Let them say what they like and do what they like. We are going to the +Colonies and will be beyond reach of slanderous tongues. Now, let us +have tea, Noel, for I am hungry and thirsty, and quite tired out with +trying to convince you of my earnestness."</p> + +<p>Lambert rang for the tea. "Shall we tell Jarwin that we intend to +marry?"</p> + +<p>"No. We shall tell no one until we are married," she replied, and kissed +him once, twice, thrice, and again, until Mrs. Tribb entered with the +tray. Then they both sat demurely at the first of many meals which they +hoped would be the start of a new Darby and Joan existence.</p> + +<p>And the outcome of the interview and of the decision that was arrived at +appeared in a letter to Mr. Jarwin, of Chancery Lane. A week later he +received a communication signed by Agnes Lambert, in which she stated +that on the preceding day she had married her cousin by special license. +Mr. Jarwin had to read the epistle twice before he could grasp the +astounding fact that the woman had paid two millions for a husband.</p> + +<p>"She's mad, crazy, silly, insane," murmured the lawyer, then his eyes +lighted up with curiosity. "Now I shall know the name of the person in +the sealed letter who inherits," and he forthwith proceeded to his safe.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII" />CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>ON THE TRAIL.</h3> + + +<p>Great was the excitement in society when it became known—through the +medium of a newspaper paragraph—that Lady Agnes Pine had surrendered +two millions sterling to become Mrs. Noel Lambert. Some romantic people +praised her as a noble woman, who placed love above mere money, while +others loudly declared her to be a superlative fool. But one and all +agreed that she must have loved her cousin all the time, and that +clearly the marriage with the deceased millionaire had been forced on +by Garvington, for family reasons connected with the poverty of the +Lamberts. It was believed that the fat little egotist had obtained his +price for selling his sister, and that his estates had been freed from +all claims through the generosity of Pine. Of course, this was not the +case; but the fact was unknown to the general public, and Garvington was +credited with an income which he did not possess.</p> + +<p>The man himself was furious at having been tricked. He put it in this +way, quite oblivious to his own actions, which had brought about such a +result. He could not plead ignorance on this score, as Agnes had written +him a letter announcing her marriage, and plainly stating her reasons +for giving up her late husband's fortune. She ironically advised him to +seek out the person to whom the money would pass, and to see if he could +not plunder that individual. Garvington, angry as he was, took the +advice seriously, and sought out Jarwin. But that astute individual +declined to satisfy his curiosity, guessing what use he would make of +the information. In due time, as the solicitor said, the name of the +lucky legatee would be made public, and with this assurance Garvington +was obliged to be content.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the happy pair—and they truly were extremely happy—heard +nothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame. +They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, on +the south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert had +discovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of the +moorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of the +honeymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by a +gigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak," as Noel +called her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, since +Agnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position.</p> + +<p>"And in the Colonies," she explained to her husband, during a moorland +ramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady.' Mrs. Noel +Lambert is good enough for me."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies."</p> + +<p>"We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad," he answered good-humoredly. "It +may seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; but +all my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds a +week."</p> + +<p>"You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But remember +that I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul."</p> + +<p>"Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve. +Besides I hope to make a name as a painter."</p> + +<p>"In the Colonies?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene does +not destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling, +if it is wise to leave England—at least until we learn who murdered +Pine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth will +never become known."</p> + +<p>"It must become known, Agnes," said Lambert firmly. "Remember that +Silver and Chaldea practically accuse us of murdering your husband."</p> + +<p>"They know it is a lie, and won't proceed further," said Agnes +hopefully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, they will, and Miss Greeby also."</p> + +<p>"Clara! Why, she is on our side."</p> + +<p>"Indeed she is not. Your guess that she was still in love with me turns +out to be quite correct. I received a letter from her this morning, +which was forwarded from Kensington. She reproaches me with marrying you +after the trouble she took in getting the forged letter back from +Silver."</p> + +<p>"But you told me that she said she would help you as a friend."</p> + +<p>"She did so, in order—to use an expressive phrase—to pull the wool +over my eyes. But she intended—and she puts her intention plainly in +her letter—to help me in order to secure my gratitude, and then she +counted upon my making her my wife."</p> + +<p>Agnes flushed. "I might have guessed that she would act in that way. +When you told me that she was helping I had a suspicion what she was +aiming at. What else does she say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all manner of things, more or less silly. She hints that I have +acted meanly in causing you to forfeit two millions, and says that no +man of honor would act in such a way."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mrs. Lambert coolly. "She believed that my possession of +the money would be even a greater barrier to our coming together than +the fact of my being married to Hubert. Well, dear, what does it +matter?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal, Agnes," replied Noel, wrinkling his brows. "She intends +to make mischief, and she can, with the aid of Silver, who is naturally +furious at having lost his chance of blackmail. Then there's Chaldea—"</p> + +<p>"She can do nothing."</p> + +<p>"She can join forces with Miss Greeby and the secretary, and they will +do their best to get us into trouble. To defend ourselves we should have +to explain that Garvington wrote the letter, and then heaven only knows +what disgrace would befall the name."</p> + +<p>"But you don't believe that Freddy is guilty?" asked Agnes anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Still, he wrote that letter which lured Pine to his death, and +if such a mean act became known, he would be disgraced forever."</p> + +<p>"Freddy has such criminal instincts," said Mrs. Lambert gloomily, "that +I am quite sure he will sooner or later stand in the dock."</p> + +<p>"We must keep him out of it as long as we can," said Noel decisively. +"For that reason I intend to leave you here and go to Garvington."</p> + +<p>"To see Freddy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and to see Chaldea, and to call on Silver, who is living in my old +cottage. Also I wish to have a conversation with Miss Greeby. In some +way, my dear, I must settle these people, or they will make trouble. +Have you noticed, Agnes, what a number of gypsies seem to cross our +path?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but there are many gypsies in Devonshire."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, but many gypsies do not come to this retired spot as a rule, +and yet they seem to swarm. Chaldea is having us watched."</p> + +<p>"For what reason?" Agnes opened her astonished eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wish to learn. Chaldea is now a queen, and evidently has sent +instructions to her kinsfolk in this county to keep an eye on us."</p> + +<p>Agnes ruminated for a few minutes. "I met Mother Cockleshell yesterday," +she observed; "but I thought nothing of it, as she belongs to +Devonshire."</p> + +<p>"I believe Mother Cockleshell is on our side, dear, since she is so +grateful to you for looking after her when she was sick. But Kara has +been hovering about, and we know that he is Chaldea's lover."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Mrs. Lambert, rising from the heather on which they had +seated themselves, "it will be best to face Mother Cockleshell and Kara +in order to learn what all this spying means."</p> + +<p>Lambert approved of this suggestion, and the two returned to Mrs. +"Anak's" abode to watch for the gypsies. But, although they saw two or +three, or even more during the next few days, they did not set eyes on +the Servian dwarf, or on Gentilla Stanley. Then—since it never rains +but it pours—the two came together to the inn. Agnes saw them through +the sitting-room window, and walked out boldly to confront them. Noel +was absent at the moment, so she had to conduct the examination entirely +alone.</p> + +<p>"Gentilla, why are you spying on me and my husband?" asked Agnes +abruptly.</p> + +<p>The respectable woman dropped a curtsey and clutched the shoulder of +Kara, who showed a disposition to run away. "I'm no spy, my angel," said +the old creature with a cunning glint in her eyes. "It's this one who +keeps watch."</p> + +<p>"For what reason?"</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my lady—"</p> + +<p>"Don't call me by my title. I've dropped it."</p> + +<p>"Only for a time, my dear. I have read your fortune in the stars, my +Gorgio one, and higher you will be with money and rank than ever you +have been in past days. But not with the child's approval."</p> + +<p>"The child. What child?"</p> + +<p>"Chaldea, no less. She's raging mad, as the golden rye has made you his +romi, my sweet one, and she has set many besides Kara to overlook you."</p> + +<p>"So Mr. Lambert and I thought. And Chaldea's reason?"</p> + +<p>"She would make trouble," replied Mother Cockleshell mysteriously. "But +Kara does not wish her to love the golden rye—as she still does—since +he would have the child to himself." She turned and spoke rapidly in +Romany to the small man in the faded green coat.</p> + +<p>Kara listened with twinkling eyes, and pulling at his heavy beard with +one hand, while he held the neck of his violin with the other. When +Mother Cockleshell ceased he poured out a flood of the kalo jib with +much gesticulation, and in a voice which boomed like a gong. Of course, +Mrs. Lambert did not understand a word of his speech, and looked +inquiringly at Gentilla.</p> + +<p>"Kara says," translated the woman hurriedly, "that he is your friend, +since he is glad you are the golden rye's romi. Ever since you left +Lundra the child has set him and others to spy on you. She makes +mischief, does the child in her witchly way."</p> + +<p>"Ask him," said Agnes, indicating the dwarf, "if he knows who murdered +my late husband?"</p> + +<p>Gentilla asked the question and translated the reply. "He knows nothing, +but the child knows much. I go back to the wood in Hengishire, my dear, +to bring about much that will astonish Chaldea—curses on her evil +heart. Tell the rye to meet me at his old cottage in a week. Then the +wrong will be made right," ended Mother Cockleshell, speaking quite in +the style of Meg Merrilees, and very grandiloquently. "And happiness +will be yours. By this and this I bless you, my precious lady," making +several mystical signs, she turned away, forcing the reluctant Kara to +follow her.</p> + +<p>"But, Gentilla?" Agnes hurried in pursuit.</p> + +<p>"No! no, my Gorgious. It is not the time. Seven days, and seven hours, +and seven minutes will hear the striking of the moment. Sarishan, my +deary."</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell hobbled away with surprising alacrity, and Mrs. +Lambert returned thoughtfully to the inn. Evidently the old woman knew +of something which would solve the mystery, else she would scarcely have +asked Noel to meet her in Hengishire. And being an enemy to Chaldea, who +had deposed her, Agnes was quite sure that Gentilla would work her +hardest to thwart the younger gypsy's plans. It flashed across her mind +that Chaldea herself might have murdered Pine. But since his death would +have removed the barrier between Lambert and herself, Agnes could not +believe that Chaldea was guilty. The affair seemed to become more +involved every time it was looked into.</p> + +<p>However, Mrs. Lambert related to her husband that same evening all that +had taken place, and duly delivered the old gypsy's message. Noel +listened quietly and nodded. He made up his mind to keep the appointment +in Abbot's Wood the moment he received the intelligence. "And you can +stay here, Agnes," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she pleaded. "I wish to be beside you."</p> + +<p>"There may be danger, my dear. Chaldea will not stick at a trifle to +revenge herself, you know."</p> + +<p>"All the more reason that I should be with you," insisted Agnes. +"Besides, these wretches are plotting against me as much as against you, +so it is only fair that I should be on the spot to defend myself."</p> + +<p>"You have a husband to defend you now, Agnes. Still, as I know you will +be anxious if I leave you in this out-of-the-way place, it will be best +for us both to go to London. There is a telephone at Wanbury, and I can +communicate with you at once should it be necessary."</p> + +<p>"Of course it will be necessary," said Mrs. Lambert with fond +impatience. "I shall worry dreadfully to think that you are in danger. +I don't wish to lose you now that we are together."</p> + +<p>"You can depend upon my keeping out of danger, for your sake, dear," +said the young man, caressing her. "Moreover, Mother Cockleshell will +look after me should Chaldea try any of her Romany tricks. Stay in town, +darling."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me, that flat is so dingy, and lonely, and disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"You shan't remain at the flat. There's a very pleasant hotel near Hyde +Park where we can put up."</p> + +<p>"It's so expensive."</p> + +<p>"Never mind the expense, just now. When everything is square we can +consider economy. But I shall not be easy in my mind until poor Pine's +murderer is in custody."</p> + +<p>"I only hope Garvington won't be found to be an accomplice," said Agnes, +with a shiver. "Bad as he is, I can't help remembering that he is my +brother."</p> + +<p>"And the head of the Lamberts," added her husband gravely. "You may be +sure that I shall try and save the name from disgrace."</p> + +<p>"It's a dismal ending to our honeymoon."</p> + +<p>"Let us look upon it as the last hedge of trouble which has to be +jumped."</p> + +<p>Agnes laughed at this quaint way of putting things, and cheered up. For +the next few days they did their best to enjoy to the full the golden +hours of love, and peace which remained, and then departed, to the +unfeigned regret of Mrs. "Anak." But present pleasure meant future +trouble, so the happy pair—and they were happy in spite of the lowering +clouds—were forced to leave their temporary paradise in order to baffle +their enemies. Miss Greeby, Chaldea, Silver, and perhaps Garvington, +were all arrayed against them, so a conflict could not possibly be +avoided.</p> + +<p>Agnes took up her abode in the private hotel near the Park which Lambert +had referred to, and was very comfortable, although she did not enjoy +that luxury with which Pine's care had formerly surrounded her. Having +seen that she had all she required, Noel took the train to Wanbury, and +thence drove in a hired fly to Garvington, where he put up at the +village inn. It was late at night when he arrived, so it might have been +expected that few would have noted his coming. This was true, but among +the few was Chaldea, who still camped with her tribe in Abbot's Wood. +Whosoever now owned the property on mortgage, evidently did not desire +to send the gypsies packing, and, of course, Garvington, not having the +power, could not do so.</p> + +<p>Thus it happened that while Lambert was breakfasting next morning, +somewhere about ten o'clock, word was brought to him by the landlady +that a gypsy wished to see him. The young man at once thought that +Mother Cockleshell had called to adjust the situation, and gave orders +that she should be admitted. He was startled and ill-pleased when +Chaldea made her appearance. She looked as handsome as ever, but her +face wore a sullen, vicious look, which augured ill for a peaceful +interview.</p> + +<p>"So you cheated me after all, rye?" was her greeting, and her eyes +sparkled with anger at the sight of the man she had lost.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, girl," said Lambert, purposely rough, for her +persistence irritated him. "You know that I never loved you."</p> + +<p>"Am I so ugly then?" demanded the girl bitterly.</p> + +<p>"That remark is beside the point," said the man coldly. "And I am not +going to discuss such things with you. But I should like to know why you +set spies on me when I was in Devonshire?"</p> + +<p>Chaldea's eyes sparkled still more, and she taunted him. "Oh, the clever +one that you are, to know that I had you watched. Aye, and I did, my +rye. From the time you left the cottage you were under the looks of my +people."</p> + +<p>"Why, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because I want revenge," cried Chaldea, stepping forward and striking +so hard a blow on the table that the dishes jumped. "You scorned me, and +now you shall pay for that scorn."</p> + +<p>"Don't be melodramatic, please. What can you do to harm me, I should +like to know, you silly creature?"</p> + +<p>"I can prove that you murdered my brother Hearne."</p> + +<p>"Oh, can you, and in what way?"</p> + +<p>"I have the bullet which killed him," said the gypsy, speaking very fast +so as to prevent interruption. "Kara knifed it out of the tree-trunk +which grows near the shrubbery. If I take it to the police and it fits +your pistol, then where will you be, my precious cheat?"</p> + +<p>Lambert looked at her thoughtfully. If she really did possess the bullet +he would be able to learn if Garvington had fired the second shot, since +it would fit the barrel of his revolver. So far as he was concerned, +when coming to live in the Abbot's Wood Cottage, he had left all his +weapons stored in London, and would be able to prove that such was the +case. He did not fear for himself, as Chaldea's malice could not hurt +him in this way, but he wondered if it would be wise to take her to The +Manor, where Garvington was in residence, in order to test the fitting +of the bullet. Finally, he decided to risk doing so, as in this way he +might be able to force the girl's hand and learn how much she really +knew. If aware that Garvington was the culprit, she would exhibit no +surprise did the bullet fit the barrel of that gentleman's revolver. And +should it be proved that she knew the truth, she would not dare to say +anything to the police, lest she should be brought into the matter, as +an accomplice after the fact. Chaldea misunderstood his silence, while +he was thinking in this way, and smiled mockingly with a toss of her +head.</p> + +<p>"Ah, the rye is afraid. His sin has come home to him," she sneered. +"Hai, you are at my feet now, my Gorgious one."</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Lambert coolly, and rose to put on his cap. "Come +with me, Chaldea. We go to The Manor."</p> + +<p>"And what would I do in the boro rye's ken, my precious?"</p> + +<p>Lambert ignored the question. "Have you the bullet with you?"</p> + +<p>"Avali," Chaldea nodded. "It lies in my pocket."</p> + +<p>"Then we shall see at The Manor if it fits the pistol."</p> + +<p>"Hai! you have left the shooter at the big house," said the girl, +falling into the trap, and thereby proved—to Lambert at least—that she +was really in the dark as regards the true criminal.</p> + +<p>"Lord Garvington has a revolver of mine," said the young man evasively, +although the remark was a true one, since he had presented his cousin +with a brace of revolvers some twelve months before.</p> + +<p>Chaldea looked at him doubtfully. "And if the bullet fits—"</p> + +<p>"Then you can do what you like," retorted Lambert tartly. "Come on. +I can't wait here all day listening to the rubbish you talk."</p> + +<p>The gypsy followed him sullenly enough, being overborne by his +peremptory manner, and anxious, if possible, to bring home the crime to +him. What she could not understand, for all her cleverness, was, why he +should be so eager to condemn himself, and so went to The Manor on the +lookout for treachery. Chaldea always judged other people by herself, +and looked upon treachery as quite necessary on certain occasions. Had +she guessed the kind of trap which Lambert was laying for her, it is +questionable if she would have fallen into it so easily. And Lambert, +even at this late hour, could not be certain if she really regarded him +as guilty, or if she was only bluffing in order to gain her ends.</p> + +<p>Needless to say, Garvington did not welcome his cousin enthusiastically +when he entered the library to find him waiting with Chaldea beside him. +The fat little man rushed in like a whirlwind, and, ignoring his own +shady behavior, heaped reproaches on Lambert's head.</p> + +<p>"I wonder you have the cheek to come here," he raged. "You and this +beast of a girl. I want no gypsies in my house, I can tell you. And +you've lost me a fortune by your selfish behavior."</p> + +<p>"I don't think we need talk of selfishness when you are present, +Garvington."</p> + +<p>"Why not? By marrying Agnes you have made her give up the money."</p> + +<p>"She wished to give it up to punish you," said Lambert rebukingly.</p> + +<p>"To punish me!" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his +head. "And what have I done?"</p> + +<p>Lambert laughed and shrugged his shoulders. In the face of this dense +egotism, it was impossible to argue in any way. He dismissed the subject +and got to business, as he did not wish to remain longer in Garvington's +society than was absolutely necessary.</p> + +<p>"This girl," he said abruptly, indicating Chaldea, who stood passively +at his elbow, "has found the bullet with which Pine was shot."</p> + +<p>"Kara found it, my boro rye," put in the gypsy quickly, and addressing +Lord Garvington, who gurgled out his surprises, "in the tree-trunk."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," interrupted the other. "The elm which is near the shrubbery. +Then why didn't you give the bullet to the police?"</p> + +<p>"Do you ask that, Garvington?" inquired Lambert meaningly, and the +little man whirled round to answer with an expression of innocent +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," he vociferated, growing purple with resentment. "You +don't accuse me of murdering the man who was so useful to me, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"I shall answer that very leading question when you bring out the +revolver with which you shot Pine on that night."</p> + +<p>"I only winged him," cried Garvington indignantly. "The second shot was +fired by some unknown person, as was proved clearly enough at the +inquest."</p> + +<p>"All the same, I wish you to produce the revolver."</p> + +<p>"Why?" The host looked suspicious and even anxious.</p> + +<p>It was Chaldea who replied, and when doing so she fished out the +battered bullet. "To see if this fits the barrel of the pistol which the +golden rye gave you, my great one," said she significantly.</p> + +<p>Garvington started, his color changed and he stole a queer look at the +impassive face of his cousin. "The pistol which the golden rye gave me?" +he repeated slowly and weighing the words. "Did you give me one, Noel?"</p> + +<p>"I gave you a couple in a case," answered Lambert without mentioning the +date of the present. "And if this bullet fits the one you used—"</p> + +<p>"It will prove nothing," interrupted the other hurriedly, and with a +restless movement. "I fired from the doorstep, and my bullet, after +breaking Pine's arm, must have vanished into the beyond. The shot which +killed him was fired from the shrubbery, and, it is quite easy to guess +how it passed through him and buried itself in the tree which was in the +line of fire."</p> + +<p>"I want to see the pistols," said Lambert insistently, and this time +Chaldea looked at him, wondering why he was so anxious to condemn +himself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," snapped Garvington, with some reluctance, and walked +toward the door. There he paused, and evidently awaited to arrive at +some conclusion, the nature of which his cousin could not guess. "Oh, +very well," he said again, and left the room.</p> + +<p>"He thinks that you are a fool, as I do, my Gorgious," said Chaldea +scornfully. "You wish to hang yourself it seems, my rye."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't think that I shall be the one to be hanged. Tell me, +Chaldea, do you really believe that I am guilty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the girl positively. "And if you had married me I should +have saved you."</p> + +<p>Lambert laughed, but was saved the trouble of a reply by the return of +Garvington, who trotted in to lay a mahogany case on the table. Opening +this, he took out a small revolver of beautiful workmanship. Chaldea, +desperately anxious to bring home the crime to Lambert, hastily snatched +the weapon from the little man's hand and slipped the bullet into one of +the chambers. It fitted—making allowance for its battered +condition—precisely. She uttered a cry of triumph. "So you did shoot +the Romany, my bold one," was her victorious speech.</p> + +<p>"Because the bullet fits the barrel of a revolver I gave to my cousin +some twelve months ago?" he inquired, smiling.</p> + +<p>Chaldea's face fell. "Twelve months ago!" she echoed, greatly +disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, as Lord Garvington can swear to. So I could not have used the +weapon on that night, you see."</p> + +<p>"I used it," admitted Garvington readily enough. "And winged Pine."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. But I gave you a brace of revolvers of the same make. The +bullet which would fit one—as it does—would fit the other. I see there +is only one in the case. Where is the other?"</p> + +<p>Garvington's color changed and he shuffled with his feet. "I lent it to +Silver," he said in a low voice, and reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Was it in Silver's possession on the night Pine was shot?"</p> + +<p>"Must have been. He borrowed it a week before because he feared +burglars."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Lambert coolly, and drawing a breath of relief, for the +tension had been great, "the inference is obvious. Silver shot Hubert +Pine."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII" />CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>AN AMAZING ACCUSATION.</h3> + + +<p>"Beng in tutes bukko!" swore Chaldea in good Romany, meaning that she +wished the devil was in some one's body. And she heartily meant what she +said, and cared little which of the two men's interior was occupied by +the enemy of mankind, since she hated both. The girl was disappointed to +think that Lambert should escape from her snare, and enraged that +Garvington's production of one revolver and his confession that Silver +had the other tended to this end. "May the pair of you burn in hell," +she cried, taking to English, so that they could understand the insult. +"Ashes may you be in the Crooked One's furnace."</p> + +<p>Lambert shrugged his shoulders, as he quite understood her feelings, and +did not intend to lower himself by correcting her. He addressed himself +to his cousin and turned his back on the gypsy. "Silver shot Hubert +Pine," he repeated, with his eyes on Garvington's craven face.</p> + +<p>"It's impossible—impossible!" returned the other hurriedly. "Silver was +shut up in the house with the rest. I saw to the windows and doors +myself, along with the butler and footmen. At the inquest—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind about the inquest. I know what you said there, and I am now +beginning to see why you said it."</p> + +<p>"What the devil do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean," stated the other, staring hard at him, "that you knew Silver +was guilty when the inquest took place, and screened him for some +reason."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know; I swear I didn't know!" stuttered Garvington, wiping his +heated face, and with his lower lip trembling.</p> + +<p>"You must have done so," replied Lambert relentlessly. "This bullet will +fit both the revolvers I gave you, and as you passed on one to Silver—"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish! Bosh! Nonsense!" babbled the little man incoherently. "Until +you brought the bullet I never knew that it would fit the revolver."</p> + +<p>This was true, as Lambert admitted. However, he saw that Garvington was +afraid for some reason, and pressed his advantage. "Now that you see how +it fits, you must be aware that it could only have been fired from the +revolver which you gave Silver."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that," protested Garvington. "That bullet may fit many +revolvers."</p> + +<p>Lambert shook his head. "I don't think so. I had that brace of revolvers +especially manufactured, and the make is peculiar. I am quite prepared +to swear that the bullet would fit no other weapon. And—and"—he +hesitated, then faced the girl, who lingered, sullen and disappointed. +"You can go, Chaldea," said Lambert, pointing to the French window of +the library, which was wide open.</p> + +<p>The gypsy sauntered toward it, clutching her shawl and gritting her +white teeth together. "Oh, I go my ways, my rye, but I have not done +with you yet, may the big devil rack my bones if I have. You win +to-day—I win to-morrow, and so good day to you, and curses on you for +a bad one. The devil is a nice character—and that's you!" she screamed, +beside herself with rage. "The puro beng is a fino mush, if you will +have the kalo jib!" and with a wild cry worthy of a banshee she +disappeared and was seen running unsteadily across the lawn. Lambert +shrugged his shoulders again and turned to his miserable cousin, who had +sat down with a dogged look on his fat face. "I have got rid of her +because I wish to save the family name from disgrace," said Lambert +quietly.</p> + +<p>"There is no disgrace on my part. Remember to whom you are speaking."</p> + +<p>"I do. I speak to the head of the family, worse luck! You have done your +best to trail our name in the mud. You altered a check which Pine gave +you so as to get more money; you forged his name to a mortgage—"</p> + +<p>"Lies, lies, the lies of Agnes!" screamed Garvington, jumping up and +shaking his fist in puny anger. "The wicked—"</p> + +<p>"Speak properly of my wife, or I'll wring your neck," said Lambert +sharply. "As to what she told me being lies, it is only too true, as you +know. I read the letter you wrote confessing that you had lured Pine +here to be shot by telling falsehoods about Agnes and me."</p> + +<p>"I only lured him to get his arm broken so that I might nurse him when +he was ill and get some money," growled Garvington, sitting down again.</p> + +<p>"I am well aware of what you did and how you did it. But you gave that +forged letter to Silver so that it might be passed on to Pine."</p> + +<p>"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!"</p> + +<p>"You did. And because Silver knew too much you gave him the Abbot's Wood +Cottage at a cheap rent, or at no rent at all, for all I know. To be +quite plain, Garvington, you conspired with Silver to have Pine killed."</p> + +<p>"Winged—only winged, I tell you. I never shot him."</p> + +<p>"Your accomplice did."</p> + +<p>"He's not my accomplice. He was in the house—everything was locked up."</p> + +<p>"By you," said Lambert quickly. "So it was easy for you to leave a +window unfastened, so that Silver might get outside to hide in the +shrubbery."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Garvington jumped up again, looking both pale and wicked. "You +want to put a rope round my neck, curse you."</p> + +<p>"That's a melodramatic speech which is not true," replied the other +coldly. "For I want to save you, or, rather, our name, from disgrace. +I won't call in the police"—Garvington winced at this word—"because +I wish to hush the matter up. But since Chaldea and Silver accuse me +and accuse Agnes of getting rid of Pine so that we might marry, it is +necessary that I should learn the exact truth."</p> + +<p>"I don't know it. I know nothing more than I have confessed."</p> + +<p>"You are such a liar that I can't believe you. However, I shall go at +once to Silver and you shall come with me."</p> + +<p>"I shan't!" Garvington, who was overfed and flabby and unable to hold +his own against a determined man, settled himself in his chair and +looked as obstinate as a battery mule.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you will, you little swine," said Lambert freezingly cold.</p> + +<p>"How dare you call me names?"</p> + +<p>"Names! If I called you those you deserved I should have to annex the +vocabulary of a Texan muledriver. How such a beast as you ever got into +our family I can't conceive."</p> + +<p>"I am the head of the family and I order you to leave the room."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you do, do you? Very good. Then I go straight to Wanbury and shall +tell what I have discovered to Inspector Darby."</p> + +<p>"No! No! No! No!" Garvington, cornered at last, sprang from his chair +and made for his cousin with unsteady legs. "It might be unpleasant."</p> + +<p>"I daresay—to you. Well, will you come with me to Abbot's Wood?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," whimpered Garvington. "Wait till I get my cap and stick, curse +you, for an interfering beast. You don't know what you're doing."</p> + +<p>"Ah! then you do know something likely to reveal the truth."</p> + +<p>"I don't—I swear I don't! I only—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn you, get your cap, and let us be off," broke in Lambert +angrily, "for I can't be here all day listening to your lies."</p> + +<p>Garvington scowled and ambled out of the room, closely followed by his +cousin, who did not think it wise to lose sight of so shifty a person. +In a few minutes they were out of the house and took the path leading +from the blue door to the postern gate in the brick wall surrounding the +park. It was a frosty, sunny day, with a hard blue sky, overarching a +wintry landscape. A slight fall of snow had powdered the ground with a +film of white, and the men's feet drummed loudly on the iron earth, +which was in the grip of the frost. Garvington complained of the cold, +although he had on a fur overcoat which made him look like a baby bear.</p> + +<p>"You'll give me my death of cold, dragging me out like this," he moaned, +as he trotted beside his cousin. "I believe you want me to take +pneumonia so that I may die and leave you the title."</p> + +<p>"I should at least respect it more than you do," said Lambert with +scorn. "Why can't you be a man instead of a thing on two legs? If you +did die no one would miss you but cooks and provision dealers."</p> + +<p>Garvington gave him a vicious glance from his little pig's eyes, and +longed to be tall, and strong, and daring, so that he might knock him +down. But he knew that Lambert was muscular and dexterous, and would +probably break his neck if it came to a tussle. Therefore, as the stout +little lord had a great regard for his neck, he judged it best to yield +to superior force, and trotted along obediently enough. Also he became +aware within himself that it would be necessary to explain to Silver how +he had come to betray him, and that would not be easy. Silver would be +certain to make himself extremely disagreeable. Altogether the walk was +not a pleasant one for the sybarite.</p> + +<p>The Abbot's Wood looked bare and lean with the leaves stripped from its +many trees. Occasionally there was a fir, clothed in dark green foliage, +but for the most part the branches of the trees were naked, and quivered +constantly in the chilly breeze. Even on the outskirts of the wood one +could see right into the centre where the black monoliths—they looked +black against the snow—reared themselves grimly. To the right there was +a glimpse of gypsy fires and tents and caravans, and the sound of the +Romany tongue was borne toward them through the clear atmosphere. On +such a day it was easy both to see and hear for long distances, and for +this reason Chaldea became aware that the two men were walking toward +the cottage.</p> + +<p>The girl, desperately angry that she had been unable to bring Lambert to +book, had sauntered back to the camp, but had just reached it when she +caught sight of the tall figure and the short one. In a moment she knew +that Lambert and his cousin were making for Silver's abode, which was +just what she had expected them to do. At once she determined to again +adopt her former tactics, which had been successful in enabling her to +overhear the conversation between Lambert and Lady Agnes, and, following +at a respectful distance, she waited for her chance. It came when the +pair entered the cottage, for then Chaldea ran swiftly in a circle +toward the monoliths, and crouched down behind one. While peering from +behind this shelter, she saw Silver pass the window of the studio, and +felt certain that the interview, would take place in that room. Like a +serpent, as she was, the girl crawled and wriggled through the frozen +vegetation and finally managed to get under the window without being +observed. The window was closed, but by pressing her ear close to the +woodwork she was enabled to hear a great deal, if not all. Candidly +speaking, Chaldea had truly believed that Lambert had shot Pine, but +now that he had disproved the charge so easily, she became desperately +anxious to learn the truth. Lambert had escaped her, but she thought +that it might be possible to implicate his wife in the crime, which +would serve her purpose of injuring him just as well.</p> + +<p>Silver was not surprised to see his landlord, as it seemed that +Garvington paid him frequent visits. But he certainly showed an uneasy +amazement when Lambert stalked in behind the fat little man. Silver was +also small, and also cowardly, and also not quite at rest in his +conscience, so he shivered when he met the very direct gaze of his +unwelcome visitor.</p> + +<p>"You have come to look at your old house, Mr. Lambert," he remarked, +when the two made themselves comfortable by the studio fire.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I have come to see you," was the grim response.</p> + +<p>"That is an unexpected honor," said Silver uneasily, and his eyes sought +those of Lord Garvington, who was spreading out his hands to the blaze, +looking blue with cold. He caught Silver's inquiring look.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it," said Garvington crossly. "I must look after +myself."</p> + +<p>Silver's smooth, foxy face became livid, and he could scarcely speak. +When he did, it was with a sickly smile. "Whatever are you talking +about, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know, d—— you! I did give you that revolver, you know."</p> + +<p>"The revolver?" Silver stared. "Yes, why should I deny it? I suppose you +have come to get it back?"</p> + +<p>"I have come to get it, Mr. Silver," put in Lambert politely. "Hand it +over to me, if you please."</p> + +<p>"If you like. It certainly has your name on the handle," said the +secretary so quietly that the other man was puzzled. Silver did not seem +to be so uncomfortable as he might have been.</p> + +<p>"The revolver was one of a pair which I had especially made when I went +to Africa some years ago," explained Lambert elaborately, and determined +to make his listener understand the situation thoroughly. "On my return +I made them a present to my cousin. I understand, Mr. Silver, that Lord +Garvington lent you one—"</p> + +<p>"And kept the other," interrupted the man sharply. "That is true. I was +afraid of burglars, since Lord Garvington was always talking about them, +so I asked him to lend me a weapon to defend myself with."</p> + +<p>"And you used it to shoot Pine," snapped Garvington, anxious to end his +suspense and get the interview over as speedily as possible.</p> + +<p>Silver rose from his seat in an automatic manner, and turned delicately +pale. "Are you mad?" he gasped, looking from one man to the other.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well you talking," whimpered Garvington with a shiver; +"but Pine was shot with that revolver I lent you."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I knew you'd say that," complained Garvington, shivering again. +"But I warned you that there might be trouble, since you carried that +letter for me, so that it might fall by chance into Pine's hands."</p> + +<p>"Augh!" groaned Silver, sinking back into his chair and passing his +tongue over a pair of dry, gray lips. "Hold your tongue, my lord."</p> + +<p>"What's the use? He knows," and Garvington jerked his head in the +direction of his cousin. "The game's up, Silver—the game's up!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Silver's eyes flashed, and he looked like a rat at bay. "So you +intend to save yourself at my expense. But it won't do, my lord. You +wrote that letter, if I carried it to the camp."</p> + +<p>"I have admitted to my sister and to Lambert, here, that I wrote the +letter, Silver. I had to, or get into trouble with the police, since +neither of them will listen to reason. But you suggested the plan to get +Pine winged so that he might be ill in my house, and then we could both +get money out of him. You invented the plot, and I only wrote the +letter."</p> + +<p>"Augh! Augh!" gulped Silver, unable to speak plainly.</p> + +<p>"Do you confess the truth of Lord Garvington's statement?" inquired +Lambert suavely, and fixing a merciless eye on the trapped fox.</p> + +<p>"No—that is—yes. He swings on the same hook as I do."</p> + +<p>"Indeed. Then Lord Garvington was aware that you shot Pine?"</p> + +<p>"I was not! I was not!" screamed the head of the Lambert family, jumping +up and clenching his hands. "I swear I never knew the truth until you +brought the bullet to the library to fit the revolver."</p> + +<p>"The—the—bullet!" stammered Silver, whose smooth red hair was almost +standing on end from sheer fright.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lambert, addressing him sharply. "Kara, under the direction +of Chaldea, found the bullet in the trunk of the elm tree which was in +the line of fire. She came with me to The Manor this morning, and we +found that it fitted the barrel of Lord Garvington's revolver. At the +inquest, and on unimpeachable evidence, it was proved that he fired only +the first shot, which disabled Pine without killing him. The second +shot, which pierced the man's heart, could only have come from the +second revolver, which was, and is, in your possession, Mr. Silver. The +bullet found in the tree trunk will fit no other barrel of no other +weapon. I'm prepared to swear to this."</p> + +<p>Silver covered his face with his hands and looked so deadly white that +Lambert believed he would faint. However, he pulled himself together, +and addressed Garvington anxiously. "You know, my lord, that you locked +up the house on that night, and that I was indoors."</p> + +<p>"Yes," admitted the other hesitating. "So far as I knew you certainly +were inside. It is true, Noel," he added, catching his cousin's eye. +"Even to save myself I must admit that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'd admit anything to save yourself," retorted his cousin +contemptuously, and noting the mistake in the wording of the sentence. +"But admitting that Silver was within doors doesn't save you, so far as +I can see."</p> + +<p>"There is no need for Lord Garvington to excuse himself," spoke up +Silver, attempting to enlist the little man on his side by defending +him. "It was proved at the inquest, as you have admitted, Mr. Lambert, +that he only fired the first shot."</p> + +<p>"And you fired the second."</p> + +<p>"I never did. I was inside and in bed. I only came down with the rest of +the guests when I heard the firing. Is that not so, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," admitted Garvington grudgingly. "So far as I know you had nothing +to do with the second shot."</p> + +<p>Silver turned a relieved face toward Lambert. "I shall confess this +much, sir," he said, trying to speak calmly and judicially. "Pine +treated me badly by taking my toy inventions and by giving me very +little money. When I was staying at The Manor I learned that Lord +Garvington had also been treated badly by Pine. He said if we could get +money that we should go shares. I knew that Pine was jealous of his +wife, and that you were at the cottage here, so I suggested that, as +Lord Garvington could imitate handwriting, he should forge a letter +purporting to come from Lady Agnes to you, saying that she intended to +elope on a certain night. Also I told Lord Garvington to talk a great +deal about shooting burglars, so as to give color to his shooting Pine."</p> + +<p>"It was arranged to shoot him, then?"</p> + +<p>"No, it wasn't," cried Garvington, glaring at Silver. "All we wanted to +do was to break Pine's arm or leg so that he might be laid up in The +Manor."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is so," said Silver feverishly, and nodding. "I fancied—and +for this reason I suggested the plot—that when Pine was ill, both Lord +Garvington and myself could deal with him in an easier manner. +Also—since the business would be left in my hands—I hoped to take out +some money from various investments, and share it with Lord Garvington. +We never meant that Pine should be killed, but only reduced to weakness +so that we might force him to give us both money."</p> + +<p>"A very ingenious plot," said Lambert grimly and wondering how much of +the story was true. "And then?"</p> + +<p>"Then Lord Garvington wrote the letter, and when seeing Pine, I gave it +to him saying that while keeping watch on his wife—as he asked me to," +said Silver with an emphasis which made Lambert wince, "I had +intercepted the letter. Pine was furious, as I knew he would be, and +said that he would come to the blue door at the appointed time to +prevent the supposed elopement. I told Lord Garvington, who was ready, +and—"</p> + +<p>"And I went down, pretending that Pine was a burglar," said Lord +Garvington, continuing the story in a most shameless manner. "I opened +the door quite expecting to find him there. He rushed me, believing in +his blind haste that I was Agnes coming to elope with you. I shot him in +the arm, and he staggered away, while I shut the door again. Whether, on +finding his mistake, and knowing that he had met me instead of Agnes, he +intended to go away, I can't say, as I was on the wrong side of the +door. But Agnes, attracted to the window by the shot, declared—and you +heard her declare it at the inquest, Noel—that Pine walked rapidly away +and was shot just as he came abreast of the shrubbery. That's all."</p> + +<p>"And quite enough, too," said Lambert savagely. "You tricky pair of +beasts; I suppose you hoped to implicate me in the crime?"</p> + +<p>"It wasn't a crime," protested Silver; "but only a way to get money. By +going up to London you certainly delayed what we intended to do, since +we could not carry out our plan until you returned. You did for one +night, as Chaldea, who was on the watch for you, told us, and then we +acted."</p> + +<p>"Did Chaldea know of the trap?"</p> + +<p>"No! She knew nothing save that I"—it was Silver who spoke—"wanted to +know about your return. She found the letter in Pine's tent, and really +believed that Lady Agnes had written it, and that you had shot Pine. It +was to force you by threats to marry her that she gave the letter to +me."</p> + +<p>"And she instructed you to show it to the police," said Lambert between +his teeth, "whereas you tried to blackmail Lady Agnes."</p> + +<p>"I had to make my money somehow," said Silver insolently. "Pine was dead +and Lady Agnes had the coin."</p> + +<p>"You were to share in the twenty-five thousand pounds, I suppose?" +Lambert asked his cousin indignantly.</p> + +<p>"No; Silver blackmailed on his own. I hoped to get money from Agnes in +another way—as her hard-up brother that is. And if—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up! You make me sick," interrupted Lambert, suppressing a +strong desire to choke his cousin. "You are as bad as Silver."</p> + +<p>"And Silver is as innocent as Lord Garvington," struck in that +gentleman, whose face was recovering its natural color.</p> + +<p>Lambert turned on him sharply. "I don't agree with that. You shot Pine!"</p> + +<p>Silver sprang up with a hysterical cry. He had judged like Agag that the +bitterness of death was past, but found that he was not yet safe. "I did +not shoot Pine," he declared, wringing his hands. "Oh, why can't you +believe me."</p> + +<p>"Because Garvington gave you the second revolver and with that—on the +evidence of the bullet—Pine was murdered."</p> + +<p>"That might be so, but—but—" Silver hesitated, and shivered and looked +round with a hunted expression in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"But what? You may as well explain to me."</p> + +<p>"I shan't—I refuse to. I am innocent! You can't hurt me!"</p> + +<p>Lambert brushed aside this puny rage. "Inspector Darby can. I shall go +to Wanbury this evening and tell him all."</p> + +<p>"No; don't do that!" cried Garvington, greatly agitated. "Think of +me—think of the family!"</p> + +<p>"I think of Justice! You two beasts aren't fit to be at large. I'm off," +and he made for the door.</p> + +<p>In a moment Silver was clutching his coat. "No, don't!" he screamed. "I +am innocent! Lord Garvington, say that I am innocent!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, —— you, get out of the hole as best you can! I'm in as big a mess +as you are, unless Lambert acts decently."</p> + +<p>"Decently, you wicked little devil," said Lambert scornfully. "I only +propose to do what any decent man would do. You trapped Pine by means +of the letter, and Silver shot him."</p> + +<p>"I didn't! I didn't!"</p> + +<p>"You had the revolver!"</p> + +<p>"I hadn't. I gave it away! I lent it!" panted Silver, crying with +terror.</p> + +<p>"You lent it—you gave it—you liar! Who to?"</p> + +<p>Silver looked round again for some way of escape, but could see none. +"To Miss Greeby. She—she—she—she shot Pine. I swear she did."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX" />CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>MOTHER COCKLESHELL.</h3> + + +<p>It was late in the afternoon when Lambert got back to the village inn, +and he felt both tired and bewildered. The examination of Silver had +been so long, and what he revealed so amazing, that the young man wished +to be alone, both to rest and to think over the situation. It was a very +perplexing one, as he plainly saw, since, in the light of the new +revelations, it seemed almost impossible to preserve the name of the +family from disgrace. Seated in his sitting room, with his legs +stretched out and his hands in his pockets, Lambert moodily glared at +the carpet, recalling all that had been confessed by the foxy secretary +of Miss Greeby. That he should accuse her of committing the crime seemed +unreasonable.</p> + +<p>According to Silver, the woman had overheard by chance the scheme to +lure Pine to The Manor. Knowing that the millionaire was coming to +Abbot's Wood, the secretary had propounded the plan to Garvington long +before the man's arrival. Hence the constant talk of the host about +burglars and his somewhat unnecessary threat to shoot any one who tried +to break into the house. The persistence of this remark had roused Miss +Greeby's curiosity, and noting that Silver and his host were frequently +in one another's company, she had seized her opportunity to listen. For +some time, so cautious were the plotters, she had heard nothing +particular, but after her recognition of Hearne as Pine when she visited +the gypsy camp she became aware that these secret talks were connected +with his presence. Then a chance remark of Garvington's—he was always +loose-tongued—gave her the clue, and by threats of exposure she managed +to make Silver confess the whole plot. Far from thwarting it she agreed +to let them carry it out, and promised secrecy, only extracting a +promise that she should be advised of the time and place for the +trapping of the millionaire. And it was this acquiescence of Miss +Greeby's which puzzled Lambert.</p> + +<p>On the face of it, since she was in love with him, it was better for her +own private plans that Pine should remain alive, because the marriage +placed Agnes beyond his reach. Why, then, should Miss Greeby have +removed the barrier—and at the cost of being hanged for murder? Lambert +had asked Silver this question, but had obtained no definite answer, +since the secretary protested that she had not explained her reasons. +Jokingly referring to possible burglars, she had borrowed the revolver +from Silver which he had obtained from Garvington, and it was this +action which first led the little secretary to suspect her. Afterward, +knowing that she had met Pine in Abbot's Wood, he kept a close watch on +her every action to see if she intended to take a hand in the game. But +Silver protested that he could see no reason for her doing so, and even +up to the moment when he confessed to Lambert could not conjecture why +she had acted in such a manner.</p> + +<p>However, it appeared that she was duly informed of the hour when Pine +would probably arrive to prevent the pretended elopement, and also +learned that he would be hanging about the blue door. When Silver +retired for the night he watched the door of her bedroom—which was in +the same wing of the mansion of his own. Also he occasionally looked out +to see if Pine had arrived, as the window of his room afforded a fair +view of the blue door and the shrubbery. For over an hour—as he told +Lambert—he divided his attention between the passage and the window. It +was while looking out of the last, and after midnight, that he saw Miss +Greeby climb out of her room and descend to the ground by means of the +ivy which formed a natural ladder. Her window was no great height from +the ground, and she was an athletic woman much given to exercise. +Wondering what she intended to do, yet afraid—because of Pine's +expected arrival—to leave the house, Silver watched her cautiously. She +was arrayed in a long black cloak with a hood, he said, but in the +brilliant moonlight he could easily distinguish her gigantic form as she +slipped into the shrubbery. When Pine arrived, Silver saw him dash at +the blue door when it was opened by Garvington, and saw him fall back +after the first shot. Then he heard the shutting of the door; +immediately afterward the opening of Lady Agnes's window, and noted that +Pine ran quickly and unsteadily down the path. As he passed the +shrubbery, the second shot came—at this point Silver simply gave the +same description as Lady Agnes did at the inquest—and then Pine fell. +Afterward Garvington and his guests came out and gathered round the +body, but Miss Greeby, slipping along the rear of the shrubbery, doubled +back to the shadow at the corner of the house. Silver, having to play +his part, did not wait to see her re-enter the mansion, but presumed she +did so by clambering up the ivy. He ran down and mingled with the guests +and servants, who were clustered round the dead man, and finally found +Miss Greeby at his elbow, artlessly inquiring what had happened. For the +time being he accepted her innocent attitude.</p> + +<p>Later on, when dismissed by Jarwin and in want of funds, he sought out +Miss Greeby and accused her. At first she denied the story, but finally, +as she judged that he could bring home the crime to her, she compromised +with him by giving him the post of her secretary at a good salary. When +he obtained the forged letter from Chaldea—and she learned this from +Lambert when he was ill—Miss Greeby made him give it to her, alleging +that by showing it to Agnes she could the more positively part the widow +from her lover. Miss Greeby, knowing who had written the letter, counted +upon Agnes guessing the truth, and had she not seen that it had entered +her mind, when the letter was brought to her, she would have given a +hint as to the forger's name. But Agnes's hesitation and sudden paleness +assured Miss Greeby that she guessed the truth, so the letter was left +to work its poison. Silver, of course, clamored for his blackmail, but +Miss Greeby promised to recompense him, and also threatened if he did +not hold his tongue that she would accuse him and Garvington of the +murder. Since the latter had forged the letter and the former had +borrowed the revolver which had killed Pine, it would have been +tolerably easy for Miss Greeby to substantiate her accusation. As to her +share in the crime, all she had to do was to deny that Silver had passed +the borrowed revolver on to her, and there was no way in which he could +prove that he had done so. On the whole, Silver had judged it best to +fall in with Miss Greeby's plans, and preserve silence, especially as +she was rich and could supply him with whatever money he chose to ask +for. She was in his power, and he was in her power, so it was necessary +to act on the golden rule of give and take.</p> + +<p>And the final statement which Silver made to Lambert intimated that +Garvington was ignorant of the truth. Until the bullet was produced in +the library to fit the revolver it had never struck Garvington that the +other weapon had been used to kill Pine. And he had honestly believed +that Silver—as was actually the case—had remained in his bedroom all +the time, until he came downstairs to play his part. As to Miss Greeby +being concerned in the matter, such an idea had never entered +Garvington's head. The little man's hesitation in producing the +revolver, when he got an inkling of the truth, was due to his dread that +if Silver was accused of the murder—and at the time it seemed as though +the secretary was guilty—he might turn king's evidence to save his +neck, and explain the very shady plot in which Garvington had been +engaged. But Lambert had forced his cousin's hand, and Silver had been +brought to book, with the result that the young man now sat in his room +at the inn, quite convinced that Miss Greeby was guilty, yet wondering +what motive had led her to act in such a murderous way.</p> + +<p>Also, Lambert wondered what was best to be done, in order to save the +family name. If he went to the police and had Miss Greeby arrested, the +truth of Garvington's shady dealings would certainly come to light, +especially as Silver was an accessory after the fact. On the other hand, +if he left things as they were, there was always a chance that hints +might be thrown out by Chaldea—who had everything to gain and nothing +to lose—that he and Agnes were responsible for the death of Pine. Of +course, Lambert, not knowing that Chaldea had been listening to the +conversation in the cottage, believed that the girl was ignorant of the +true state of affairs, and he wondered how he could inform her that the +actual criminal was known without risking her malignity. He wanted to +clear his character and that of his wife; likewise he wished to save the +family name. But it seemed to him that the issue of these things lay in +the hands of Chaldea, and she was bent upon injuring him if she could. +It was all very perplexing.</p> + +<p>It was at this point of his meditation that Mother Cockleshell arrived +at the inn. He heard her jovial voice outside and judged from its tone +that the old dame was in excellent spirits. Her visit seemed to be a +hint from heaven as to what he should do. Gentilla hated Chaldea and +loved Agnes, so Lambert felt that she would be able to help him. As soon +as possible he had her brought into the sitting room, and, having made +her sit down, closed both the door and the window, preparatory to +telling her all that he had learned. The conversation was, indeed, an +important one, and he was anxious that it should take place without +witnesses.</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> kind, sir," said Mother Cockleshell, who had been supplied +with a glass of gin and water. "But it ain't for the likes of me to be +sitting down with the likes of you."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! We must have a long talk, and I can't expect you to stand all +the time—at your age."</p> + +<p>"Some Gentiles ain't so anxious to save the legs of old ones," remarked +Gentilla Stanley cheerfully. "But I always did say as you were a golden +one for kindness of heart. Well, them as does what's unexpected gets +what they don't hope for."</p> + +<p>"I have got my heart's desire, Mother," said Lambert, sitting down and +lighting his pipe. "I am happy now."</p> + +<p>"Not as happy as you'd like to be, sir," said the old woman, speaking +quite in the Gentile manner, and looking like a decent charwoman. +"You've a dear wife, as I don't deny, Mr. Lambert, but money is what +you want."</p> + +<p>"I have enough for my needs."</p> + +<p>"Not for her needs, sir. She should be wrapped in cloth of gold and have +a path of flowers to tread upon."</p> + +<p>"It's a path of thorns just now," muttered Lambert moodily.</p> + +<p>"Not for long, sir; not for long. I come to put the crooked straight and +to raise a lamp to banish the dark. Very good this white satin is," said +Mother Cockleshell irrelevantly, and alluding to the gin. "And terbaccer +goes well with it, as there's no denying. You wouldn't mind my taking a +whiff, sir, would you?" and she produced a blackened clay pipe which had +seen much service. "Smoking is good for the nerves, Mr. Lambert."</p> + +<p>The young man handed her his pouch. "Fill up," he said, smiling at the +idea of his smoking in company with an old gypsy hag.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my precious!" said Mother Cockleshell, accepting the offer +with avidity, and talking more in the Romany manner. "I allers did say +as you were what I said before you were, and that's golden, my Gorgious +one. Ahime!" she blew a wreath of blue smoke from her withered lips, +"that's food to me, my dearie, and heat to my old bones."</p> + +<p>Lambert nodded. "You hinted, in Devonshire, that you had something to +say, and a few moments ago you talked about putting the crooked +straight."</p> + +<p>"And don't the crooked need that same?" chuckled Gentilla, nodding. +"There's trouble at hand, my gentleman. The child's brewing witch's +broth, for sure."</p> + +<p>"Chaldea!" Lambert sat up anxiously. He mistrusted the younger gypsy +greatly, and was eager to know what she was now doing.</p> + +<p>"Aye! Aye! Aye!" Mother Cockleshell nodded three times like a veritable +Macbeth witch. "She came tearing, rampagious-like, to the camp an hour +or so back and put on her fine clothes—may they cleave with pain to her +skin—to go to the big city. It is true, rye. Kara ran by the side of +the donkey she rode upon—may she have an accident—to Wanbury."</p> + +<p>"To Wanbury?" Lambert looked startled as it crossed his mind, and not +unnaturally, that Chaldea might have gone to inform Inspector Darby +about the conversation with Garvington in the library.</p> + +<p>"To Wanbury first, sir, and then to Lundra."</p> + +<p>"How can you be certain of that?"</p> + +<p>"The child treated me like the devil's calls her," said Gentilla +Stanley, shaking her head angrily. "And I have no trust in her, for a +witchly wrong 'un she is. When she goes donkey-wise to Wanbury, I says +to a chal, says I, quick-like, 'Follow and watch her games!' So the chal +runs secret, behind hedges, and comes on the child at the railway line +making for Lundra. And off she goes on wheels in place of tramping the +droms in true Romany style."</p> + +<p>"What the deuce has she gone to London for?" Lambert asked himself in a +low voice, but Gentilla's sharp ears overheard.</p> + +<p>"Mischief for sure, my gentleman. Hai, but she's a bad one, that same. +But she plays and I play, with the winning for me—since the good cards +are always in the old hand. Fear nothing, my rye. She cannot hurt, +though snake that she is, her bite stings."</p> + +<p>The young man did not reply. He was uneasy in one way and relieved in +another. Chaldea certainly had not gone to see Inspector Darby, so she +could not have any intention of bringing the police into the matter. But +why had she gone to London? He asked himself this question and finally +put it to the old woman, who watched him with bright, twinkling eyes.</p> + +<p>"She's gone for mischief," answered Gentilla, nodding positively. "For +mischief's as natural to her as cheating is to a Romany chal. But I'm a +dealer of cards myself, rye, and I deal myself the best hand."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd leave metaphor and come to plain speaking," cried Lambert +in an irritable tone, for the conversation was getting on his nerves by +reason of its prolixity and indirectness.</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell laughed and nodded, then emptied the ashes out of her +pipe and spoke out, irrelevantly as it would seem: "The child has taken +the hearts of the young from me," said she, shaking her grizzled head; +"but the old cling to the old. With them as trusts my wisdom, my rye, I +goes across the black water to America and leaves the silly ones to the +child. She'll get them into choky and trouble, for sure. And that's a +true dukkerin."</p> + +<p>"Have you the money to go to America?"</p> + +<p>"Money?" The old woman chuckled and hugged herself. "And why not, sir, +when Ishmael Hearne was my child. Aye, the child of my child, for I am +the bebee of Hearne, bebee being grandmother in our Romany tongue, sir."</p> + +<p>Lambert started from his seat, almost too astonished to speak. "Do you +mean to say that you are Pine's grandmother?"</p> + +<p>"Pine? Who is Pine? A Gentile I know not. Hearne he was born and Hearne +he shall be to me, though the grass is now a quilt for him. Ohone! Hai +mai! Ah, me! Woe! and woe, my gentleman. He was the child of my child +and the love of my heart," she rocked herself to and fro sorrowfully, +"like a leaf has he fallen from the tree; like the dew has he vanished +into the blackness of the great shadow. Hai mai! Hai mai! the sadness of +it."</p> + +<p>"Hearne your grandson?" murmured Lambert, staring at her and scarcely +able to believe her.</p> + +<p>"True. Yes; it is true," said Gentilla, still rocking. "He left the +road, and the tent, and the merry fire under a hedge for your Gentile +life. But a born Romany he was and no Gorgio. Ahr-r-r!" she shook +herself with disgust. "Why did he labor for gold in the Gentile manner, +when he could have chored and cheated like a true-hearted black one?"</p> + +<p>Her allusions to money suddenly enlightened the young man. "Yours is the +name mentioned in the sealed letter held by Jarwin?" he cried, with +genuine amazement written largely on his face. "You inherit the +millions?"</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell wiped her eyes with a corner of her shawl and +chuckled complacently. "It is so, young man, therefore can I take those +who hold to my wisdom to the great land beyond the water. Ah, I am rich +now, sir, and as a Gorgious one could I live beneath a roof-tree. But +for why, I asks you, my golden rye, when I was bred to the open and the +sky? In a tent I was born; in a tent I shall die. Should I go, Gentile, +it's longing for the free life I'd be, since Romany I am and ever shall +be. As we says in our tongue, my dear, 'It's allers the boro matcho that +pet-a-lay 'dree the panni,' though true gypsy lingo you can't call it +for sure."</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?" demanded Lambert, staring at the dingy possessor of +two millions sterling.</p> + +<p>"It's allers the largest fish that falls back into the water," +translated Mrs. Stanley. "I told that to Leland, the boro rye, and he +goes and puts the same into a book for your readings, my dearie!" then +she uttered a howl and flung up her arms. "But what matter I am rich, +when my child's child's blood calls out for vengeance. I'd give all the +red gold—and red money it is, my loved one," she added, fixing a bright +pair of eyes on Lambert, "if I could find him as shot the darling of my +heart."</p> + +<p>Knowing that he could trust her, and pitying her obvious sorrow, Lambert +had no hesitation in revealing the truth so far as he knew it. "It +wasn't a him who shot your grandson, but a her."</p> + +<p>"Hai!" Gentilla flung up her arms again, "then I was right. My old eyes +did see like a cat in the dark, though brightly shone the moon when he +fell."</p> + +<p>"What? You know?" Lambert started back again at this second surprise.</p> + +<p>"If it's a Gentile lady, I know. A red one large as a cow in the +meadows, and fierce as an unbroken colt."</p> + +<p>"Miss Greeby!"</p> + +<p>"Greeby! Greeby! So your romi told me," shrieked the old woman, throwing +up her hands in ecstasy. "Says I to her, 'Who's the foxy one?' and says +she, smiling like, 'Greeby's her name!'"</p> + +<p>"Why did you ask my wife that?" demanded Lambert, much astonished.</p> + +<p>"Hai, she was no wife of yours then, sir. Why did I ask her? Because I +saw the shooting—"</p> + +<p>"Of Pine—of Hearne—of your son?"</p> + +<p>"Of who else? of who else?" cried Mother Cockleshell, clapping her +skinny hand and paddling on the floor with her feet. "Says Ishmael to +me, 'Bebee,' says he, 'my romi is false and would run away with the +golden rye this very night as ever was.' And says I to him, 'It's not +so, son of my son, for your romi is as true as the stars and purer than +gold.' But says he, 'There's a letter,' he says, and shows it to me. +'Lies, son of my son,' says I, and calls on him to play the trustful +rom. But he pitches down the letter, and says he, 'I go this night to +stop them from paddling the hoof,' and says I to him, 'No! No!' says I. +'She's a true one.' But he goes, when all in the camp are sleeping +death-like, and I watches, and I follers, and I hides."</p> + +<p>"Where did you hide?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dearie. I hides securely, and sees him walking up and down +biting the lips of him and swinging his arms. Then I sees—for Oliver +was bright, and Oliver's the moon, lovey—the big Gentile woman come +round and hide in the bushes. Says I to myself, says I, 'And what's your +game?' I says, not knowing the same till she shoots and my child's child +falls dead as a hedgehog. Then she runs and I run, and all is over."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you denounce her, Gentilla?"</p> + +<p>"And for why, my precious heart? Who would believe the old gypsy? Rather +would the Poknees say as I'd killed my dear one. No! no! Artful am I and +patient in abiding my time. But the hour strikes, as I said when I spoke +to your romi in Devonshire no less, and the foxy moll shall hang. You +see, my dear, I waited for some Gentile to speak what I could speak, to +say as what I saw was truth for sure. You speak, and now I can tell my +tale to the big policeman at Wanbury so that my son's son may sleep +quiet, knowing that the evil has come home to her as laid him low. But, +lovey, oh, lovey, and my precious one!" cried the old woman darting +forward to caress Lambert's hand in a fondling way, "tell me how you +know and what you learned. At the cottage you were, and maybe out in the +open watching the winder of her you loved."</p> + +<p>"No," said Lambert sharply, "I was at the cottage certainly, but in bed +and asleep. I did not hear of the crime until I was in London. In this +way I found out the truth, Mother!" and he related rapidly all that had +been discovered, bringing the narrative right up to the confession of +Silver, which he detailed at length.</p> + +<p>The old woman kept her sharp eyes on his expressive face and hugged his +hand every now and then, as various points in the narrative struck her. +At the end she dropped his hand and returned back to her chair +chuckling. "It's a sad dukkerin for the foxy lady," said Gentilla, +grinning like the witch she was. "Hanged she will be, and rightful +it is to be so!"</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," replied Lambert relentlessly. "Your evidence and +that of Silver can hang her, certainly. Yet, if she is arrested, and the +whole tale comes out in the newspapers, think of the disgrace to my +family."</p> + +<p>Mother Cockleshell nodded. "That's as true as true, my golden rye," she +said pondering. "And I wish not to hurt you and the rani, who was kind +to me. I go away," she rose to her feet briskly, "and I think. What will +you do?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say," said Lambert, doubtfully and irresolutely. "I must +consult my wife. Miss Greeby should certainly suffer for her crime, and +yet—"</p> + +<p>"Aye! Aye! Aye! The boro rye," she meant Garvington, "is a bad one for +sure, as we know. Shame to him is shame to you, and I wouldn't have the +rani miserable—the good kind one that she is. Wait! aye, wait, my +precious gentleman, and we shall see."</p> + +<p>"You will say nothing in the meantime," said Lambert, stopping her at +the door, and anxious to know exactly what were her intentions.</p> + +<p>"I have waited long for vengeance and I can wait longer, sir," said +Mother Cockleshell, becoming less the gypsy and more the respectable +almshouse widow. "Depend upon my keeping quiet until—"</p> + +<p>"Until what? Until when?"</p> + +<p>"Never you mind," said the woman mysteriously. "Them as sins must suffer +for the sin. But not you and her as is innocent."</p> + +<p>"No violence, Gentilla," said the young man, alarmed less the lawless +gypsy nature should punish Miss Greeby privately.</p> + +<p>"I swear there shall be no violence, rye. Wait, for the child is making +mischief, and until we knows of her doings we must be silent. Give me +your gripper, my dearie," she seized his wrist and bent back the palm of +the hand to trace the lines with a dirty finger. "Good fortune comes to +you and to her, my golden rye," she droned in true gypsy fashion. +"Money, and peace, and honor, and many children, to carry on a stainless +name. Your son shall you see, and your son's son, my noble gentleman, +and with your romi shall you go with happiness to the grave," she +dropped the hand. "So be it for a true dukkerin, and remember Gentilla +Stanley when the luck comes true."</p> + +<p>"But Mother, Mother," said Lambert, following her to the door, as he was +still doubtful as to her intentions concerning Miss Greeby.</p> + +<p>The gypsy waved him aside solemnly. "Never again will you see me, my +golden rye, if the stars speak truly, and if there be virtue in the +lines of the hand. I came into your life: I go out of your life: and +what is written shall be!" she made a mystic sign close to his face and +then nodded cheerily.</p> + +<p>"Duveleste rye!" was her final greeting, and she disappeared swiftly, +but the young man did not know that the Romany farewell meant, "God +bless you!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX" />CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>THE DESTINED END.</h3> + + +<p>As might have been anticipated, Lord Garvington was in anything but a +happy frame of mind. He left Silver in almost a fainting condition, and +returned to The Manor feeling very sick himself. The two cowardly little +men had not the necessary pluck of conspirators, and now that there +seemed to be a very good chance that their nefarious doings would be +made public they were both in deadly fear of the consequences. Silver +was in the worst plight, since he was well aware that the law would +consider him to be an accessory after the fact, and that, although his +neck was not in danger, his liberty assuredly was. He was so stunned by +the storm which had broken so unexpectedly over his head, that he had +not even the sense to run away. All manly grit—what he possessed of +it—had been knocked out of him, and he could only whimper over the fire +while waiting for Lambert to act.</p> + +<p>Garvington was not quite so downhearted, as he knew that his cousin was +anxious to consider the fair fame of the family. Thinking thus, he felt +a trifle reassured, for the forged letter could not be made public +without a slur being cast on the name. Then, again, Garvington knew that +he was innocent of designing Pine's death, and that, even if Lambert did +inform the police, he could not be arrested. It is only just to say that +had the little man known of Miss Greeby's intention to murder the +millionaire, he would never have written the letter which lured the man +to his doom. And for two reasons: in the first place he was too cowardly +to risk his neck; and in the second Pine was of more value to him alive +than dead. Comforting himself with this reflection, he managed to +maintain a fairly calm demeanor before his wife.</p> + +<p>But on this night Lady Garvington was particularly exasperating, for she +constantly asked questions which the husband did not feel inclined to +answer. Having heard that Lambert was in the village, she wished to know +why he had not been asked to stay at The Manor, and defended the young +man when Garvington pointed out that an iniquitous person who had robbed +Agnes of two millions could not be tolerated by the man—Garvington +meant himself—he had wronged. Then Jane inquired why Lambert had +brought Chaldea to the house, and what had passed in the library, but +received no answer, save a growl. Finally she insisted that Freddy had +lost his appetite, which was perfectly true.</p> + +<p>"And I thought you liked that way of dressing a fish so much, dear," was +her wail. "I never seem to quite hit your taste."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother: leave me alone, Jane. I'm worried."</p> + +<p>"I know you are, for you have eaten so little. What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Everything's the matter, confound your inquisitiveness. Hasn't Agnes +lost all her money because of this selfish marriage with Noel, hang him? +How the dickens do you expect us to carry on unless we borrow?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you get some money from the person who now inherits?"</p> + +<p>"Jarwin won't tell me the name."</p> + +<p>"But I know who it is," said Lady Garvington triumphantly. "One of the +servants who went to the gypsy camp this afternoon told my maid, and my +maid told me. The gypsies are greatly excited, and no wonder."</p> + +<p>Freddy stared at her. "Excited, what about?"</p> + +<p>"Why, about the money, dear. Don't you know?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't!" shouted Freddy, breaking a glass in his irritation. "What +is it? Bother you, Jane. Don't keep me hanging on in suspense."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I never do, Freddy, dear. It's Hubert's money which has gone +to his mother."</p> + +<p>Garvington jumped up. "Who—who—who is his mother?" he demanded, +furiously.</p> + +<p>"That dear old Gentilla Stanley."</p> + +<p>"What! What! What!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Freddy," said his wife plaintively. "You make my head ache. Yes, +it's quite true. Celestine had it from William the footman. Fancy, +Gentilla having all that money. How lucky she is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn her; damn her," growled Garvington, breaking another glass.</p> + +<p>"Why, dear. I'm sure she's going to make good use of the money. She +says—so William told Celestine—that she would give a million to learn +for certain who murdered poor Hubert."</p> + +<p>"Would she? would she? would she?" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly +dropped out of his head, and he babbled, and burbled, and choked, and +spluttered, until his wife was quite alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Freddy, you always eat too fast. Go and lie down, dear."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Garvington, rapidly making up his mind to adopt a certain +course about which he wished his wife to know nothing. "I'll lie down, +Jane."</p> + +<p>"And don't take any more wine," warned Jane, as she drifted out of the +dining-room. "You are quite red as it is, dear."</p> + +<p>But Freddy did not take this advice, but drank glass after glass until +he became pot-valiant. He needed courage, as he intended to go all by +himself to the lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage and interview Silver. It +occurred to Freddy that if he could induce the secretary to give up Miss +Greeby to justice, Mother Cockleshell, out of gratitude, might surrender +to him the sum of one million pounds. Of course, the old hag might have +been talking all round the shop, and her offer might be bluff, but it +was worth taking into consideration. Garvington, thinking that there was +no time to lose, since his cousin might be beforehand in denouncing the +guilty woman, hurried on his fur overcoat, and after leaving a lying +statement with the butler that he had gone to bed, he went out by the +useful blue door. In a few minutes he was trotting along the well-known +path making up his mind what to say to Silver. The interview did not +promise to be an easy one.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could do without him," thought the treacherous little +scoundrel as he left his own property and struck across the waste ground +beyond the park wall. "But I can't, dash it all, since he's the only +person who saw the crime actually committed. 'Course he'll get jailed as +an accessory-after-the-fact: but when he comes out I'll give him a +thousand or so if the old woman parts. At all events, I'll see what +Silver is prepared to do, and then I'll call on old Cockleshell and make +things right with her. Hang it," Freddy had a qualmish feeling. "The +exposure won't be pleasant for me over that unlucky letter, but if I can +snaffle a million, it's worth it. Curse the honor of the family, I've +got to look after myself somehow. Ho! ho!" he chuckled as he remembered +his cousin. "What a sell for Noel when he finds that I've taken the wind +out of his sails. Serve him jolly well right."</p> + +<p>In this way Garvington kept up his spirits during the walk, and felt +entirely cheerful and virtuous by the time he reached the cottage. In +the thin, cold moonlight, the wintry wood looked spectral and wan. The +sight of the frowning monoliths, the gaunt, frozen trees and the +snow-powdered earth, made the luxurious little man shiver. Also the +anticipated conversation rather daunted him, although he decided that +after all Silver was but a feeble creature who could be easily managed. +What Freddy forgot was that he lacked pluck himself, and that Silver, +driven into a corner, might fight with the courage of despair. The sight +of the secretary's deadly white and terrified face as he opened the door +sufficient to peer out showed that he was at bay.</p> + +<p>"If you come in I'll shoot," he quavered, brokenly. "I'll—I'll brain +you with the poker. I'll throw hot water on you, and—and scratch out +your—your—"</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said Garvington, boldly. "It's only me—a friend!"</p> + +<p>Silver recognized the voice and the dumpy figure of his visitor. At once +he dragged him into the passage and barred the door quickly, breathing +hard meanwhile. "I don't mind you," he giggled, hysterically. "You're in +the same boat with me, my lord. But I fancied when you knocked that the +police—the police"—his voice died weakly in his throat: he cast a wild +glance around and touched his neck uneasily as though he already felt +the hangman's rope encircling it.</p> + +<p>Garvington did not approve of this grim pantomime, and swore. "I'm quite +alone, damn you," he said roughly. "It's all right, so far!" He sat down +and loosened his overcoat, for the place was like a Turkish bath for +heat. "I want a drink. You've been priming yourself, I see," and he +pointed to a decanter of port wine and a bottle of brandy which were on +the table along with a tray of glasses. "Silly ass you are to mix."</p> + +<p>"I'm—I'm—keeping up my—my spirits," giggled Silver, wholly unnerved, +and pouring out the brandy with a shaking hand. "There you are, my lord. +There's water, but no soda."</p> + +<p>"Keeping up your spirits by pouring spirits down," said Garvington, +venturing on a weak joke. "You're in a state of siege, too."</p> + +<p>Silver certainly was. He had bolted the shutters, and had piled +furniture against the two windows of the room. On the table beside the +decanter and bottles of brandy, lay a poker, a heavy club which Lambert +had brought from Africa, and had left behind when he gave up the +cottage, a revolver loaded in all six chambers, and a large bread knife. +Apparently the man was in a dangerous state of despair and was ready to +give the officers of the law a hostile welcome when they came to arrest +him. He touched the various weapons feverishly.</p> + +<p>"I'll give them beans," he said, looking fearfully from right to left. +"Every door is locked; every window is bolted. I've heaped up chairs and +sofas and tables and chests of drawers, and wardrobes and mattresses +against every opening to keep the devils out. And the lamps—look at the +lamps. Ugh!" he shuddered. "I can't bear to be in the dark."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of light," observed Garvington, and spoke truly, for there must +have been at least six lamps in the room—two on the table, two on the +mantel-piece, and a couple on the sideboard. And amidst his primitive +defences sat Silver quailing and quivering at every sound, occasionally +pouring brandy down his throat to keep up his courage.</p> + +<p>The white looks of the man, the disorder of the room, the glare of the +many lights, and the real danger of the situation, communicated their +thrill to Garvington. He shivered and looked into shadowy corners, as +Silver did; then strove to reassure both himself and his companion. +"Don't worry so," he said, sipping his brandy to keep him up to concert +pitch, "I've got an idea which will be good for both of us."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" questioned the secretary cautiously. He naturally did not +trust the man who had betrayed him.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who has inherited Pine's money?"</p> + +<p>"No. The person named in the sealed envelope?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly, and the person is Mother Cockleshell."</p> + +<p>Silver was so amazed that he forgot his fright. "What? Is Gentilla +Stanley related to Pine?"</p> + +<p>"She's his grandmother, it seems. One of my servants was at the camp +to-day and found the gypsies greatly excited over the old cat's +windfall."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" Silver whistled and drew a deep breath. "If I'd known that, I'd +have got round the old woman. But it's too late now since all the fat is +on the fire. Mr. Lambert knows too much, and you have confessed what +should have been kept quiet."</p> + +<p>"I had to save my own skin," said Garvington sullenly. "After all, I had +nothing to do with the murder. I never guessed that you were so mixed up +in it until Lambert brought that bullet to fit the revolver I lent you."</p> + +<p>"And which I gave to Miss Greeby," snapped Silver tartly. "She is the +criminal, not me. What a wax she will be in when she learns the truth. +I expect your cousin will have her arrested."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so. He has some silly idea in his head about the honor of +our name, and won't press matters unless he is forced to."</p> + +<p>"Who can force him?" asked Silver, looking more at ease, since he saw a +gleam of hope.</p> + +<p>"Chaldea! She's death on making trouble."</p> + +<p>"Can't we silence her? Remember you swing on my hook."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," contradicted Garvington sharply. "I can't be arrested."</p> + +<p>"For forging that letter you can!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I did not write it to lure Pine to his death, but only +wished to maim him."</p> + +<p>"That will get you into trouble," insisted Silver, anxious to have a +companion in misery.</p> + +<p>"It won't, I tell you. There's no one to prosecute. You are the person +who is in danger, as you knew Miss Greeby to be guilty, and are +therefore an accessory after the fact."</p> + +<p>"If Mr. Lambert has the honor of your family at heart he will do +nothing," said the secretary hopefully; "for if Miss Greeby is arrested +along with me the writing of that letter is bound to come out."</p> + +<p>"I don't care. It's worth a million."</p> + +<p>"What is worth a million?"</p> + +<p>"The exposure. See here, Silver, I hear that Mother Cockleshell is +willing to hand over that sum to the person who finds the murderer of +her grandson. We know that Miss Greeby is guilty, so why not give her +up and earn the money?"</p> + +<p>The secretary rose in quivering alarm. "But I'd be arrested also. You +said so; you know you said so."</p> + +<p>"And I say so again," remarked Garvington, leaning back coolly. "You'd +not be hanged, you know, although she would. A few years in prison +would be your little lot and when you came out I could give you +say—er—er—ten thousand pounds. There! That's a splendid offer."</p> + +<p>"Where would you get the ten thousand? Tell me!" asked Silver with a +curious look.</p> + +<p>"From the million Mother Cockleshell would hand over to me."</p> + +<p>"For denouncing me?"</p> + +<p>"For denouncing Miss Greeby."</p> + +<p>"You beast!" shrieked Silver hysterically. "You know quite well that if +she is taken by the police I have no chance of escaping. I'd run away +now if I had the cash. But I haven't. I count on your cousin keeping +quiet because of your family name, and you shan't give the show away."</p> + +<p>"But think," said Garvington, persuasively, "a whole million."</p> + +<p>"For you, and only ten thousand for me. Oh, I like that."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll make it twenty thousand."</p> + +<p>"No! no."</p> + +<p>"Thirty thousand."</p> + +<p>"No! no! no!"</p> + +<p>"Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy—oh, hang it, you greedy beast! I'll give +you one hundred thousand. You'd be rich for life then."</p> + +<p>"Would I, curse you!" Silver clenched his fists and backed against the +wall looking decidedly dangerous. "And risk a life-long sentence to get +the money while you take the lion's share."</p> + +<p>"You'd only get ten years at most," argued the visitor, annoyed by what +he considered to be silly objections.</p> + +<p>"Ten years are ten centuries at my time of life. You shan't denounce +me."</p> + +<p>Garvington rose. "Yes, I shall," he declared, rendered desperate by the +dread lest he should lose the million. "I'm going to Wanbury to-night to +tell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest along +with yours as her accomplice."</p> + +<p>Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "You +daren't!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not going +to lose a pile of money for your silly scruples."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord, consider." Silver in a panic dropped on his knees. "I +shall be shut up for years; it will kill me; it will kill me! And you +don't know what a terrible and clever woman Miss Greeby is. She may deny +that I gave her the revolver and I can't prove that I did. Then I might +be accused of the crime and hanged. Hanged!" cried the poor wretch +miserably. "Oh, you'll never give me away, my lord, will you."</p> + +<p>"Confound you, don't I risk my reputation to get the money," raged +Garvington, shaking off the trembling arms which were round his knees. +"The truth of the letter will have to come out, and then I'm dished so +far as society is concerned. I wouldn't do it—tell that is—but that +the stakes are so large. One million is waiting to be picked up and I'm +going to pick it up."</p> + +<p>"No! no! no! no!" Silver grovelled on the floor and embraced +Garvington's feet. But the more he wailed the more insulting and +determined did the visitor become. Like all tyrants and bullies +Garvington gained strength and courage from the increased feebleness +of his victim. "Don't give me up," wept the secretary, nearly beside +himself with terror; "don't give me up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn you, get out of the way!" said Garvington, and made for the +door. "I go straight to Wanbury," which statement was a lie, as he first +intended to see Mother Cockleshell at the camp and make certain that the +reward was safe. But Silver believed him and was goaded to frenzy.</p> + +<p>"You shan't go!" he screamed, leaping to his feet, and before Garvington +knew where he was the secretary had the heavy poker in his grasp. The +little fat lord gave a cry of terror and dodged the first blow which +merely fell on his shoulder. But the second alighted on his head and +with a moan he dropped to the ground. Silver flung away the poker.</p> + +<p>"Are you dead? are you dead?" he gasped, kneeling beside Garvington, and +placed his hand on the senseless man's heart. It still beat feebly, so +he arose with a sigh of relief. "He's only stunned," panted Silver, and +staggered unsteadily to the table to seize a glass of brandy. "I'll, +ah—ah—ah!" he shrieked and dropped the tumbler as a loud and +continuous knocking came to the front door.</p> + +<p>Naturally in his state of panic he believed that the police had actually +arrived, and here he had struck down Lord Garvington. Even though the +little man was not dead, Silver knew that the assault would add to his +punishment, although he might have concluded that the lesser crime was +swallowed up in the greater. But he was too terrified to think of doing +anything save hiding the stunned man, and with a gigantic effort he +managed to fling the body behind the sofa. Then he piled up rugs and +cushions between the wall and the back of the sofa until Garvington was +quite hidden and ran a considerable risk of being suffocated. All the +time the ominous knocking continued, as though the gallows was being +constructed. At least it seemed so to Silver's disturbed fancy, and he +crept along to the door holding the revolver in an unsteady grip.</p> + +<p>"Who—who—is—"</p> + +<p>"Let me in; let me in," said a loud, hard voice. "I'm Miss Greeby. I +have come to save you. Let me in."</p> + +<p>Silver had no hesitation in obeying, since she was in as much danger as +he was and could not hurt him without hurting herself. With trembling +fingers he unbolted the door and opened it, to find her tall and stately +and tremendously impatient on the threshold. She stepped in and banged +the door to without locking it. Silver's teeth chattered so much and his +limbs trembled so greatly that he could scarcely move or speak. On +seeing this—for there was a lamp in the passage—Miss Greeby picked him +up in her big arms like a baby and made for the sitting-room. When, +within she pitched Silver on to the sofa behind which Garvington lay +senseless, and placing her arms akimbo surveyed him viciously.</p> + +<p>"You infernal worm!" said Miss Greeby, grim and savage in her looks, +"you have split on me, have you?"</p> + +<p>"How—how—how do you know?" quavered Silver mechanically, noting that +in her long driving coat with a man's cap she looked more masculine than +ever.</p> + +<p>"How do I know? Because Chaldea was hiding under the studio window this +afternoon and overheard all that passed between you and Garvington and +that meddlesome Lambert. She knew that I was in danger and came at once +to London to tell me since I had given her my address. I lost no time, +but motored down here and dropped her at the camp. Now I've come to get +you out of the country."</p> + +<p>"Me out of the country?" stammered the secretary.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you cowardly swine, although I'd rather choke the life out of you +if it could be done with safety. You denounced me, you beast."</p> + +<p>"I had to; my own neck was in danger."</p> + +<p>"It's in danger now. I'd strangle you for two pins. But I intend to send +you abroad since your evidence is dangerous to me. If you are out of the +way there's no one else can state that I shot Pine. Here's twenty pounds +in gold;" she thrust a canvas bag into the man's shaking hands; "get on +your coat and cap and I'll take you to the nearest seaport wherever that +is. My motor is on the verge of the wood. You must get on board some +ship and sail for the world's end. I'll send you more money when you +write. Come, come," she stamped, "sharp's the word."</p> + +<p>"But—but—but—"</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby lifted him off the sofa by the scruff of the neck. "Do you +want to be killed?" she said between her teeth, "there's no time to be +lost. Chaldea tells me that Lambert threatens to have me arrested."</p> + +<p>The prospect of safety and prosperity in a distant land so appealed to +Silver that he regained his courage in a wonderfully short space of +time. Rising to his feet he hastily drained another glass of brandy and +the color came back to his wan cheeks. But for all the quantity he had +drank that same evening he was not in the least intoxicated. He was +about to rush out of the room to get his coat and cap when Miss Greeby +laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Is there any one else in the house?" she asked suspiciously.</p> + +<p>Silver cast a glance towards the sofa. "There's no servant," he said in +a stronger voice. "I have been cooking and looking after myself since I +came here. But—but—but—"</p> + +<p>"But what, you hound?" she shook him fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Garvington's behind the sofa."</p> + +<p>"Garvington!" Miss Greeby was on the spot in a moment pulling away the +concealing rugs and cushions. "Have you murdered him?" she demanded, +drawing a deep breath and looking at the senseless man.</p> + +<p>"No, he's only stunned. I struck him with the poker because he wanted to +denounce me."</p> + +<p>"Quite right." Miss Greeby patted the head of her accomplice as if he +were a child, "You're bolder than I thought. Go on; hurry up! Before +Garvington recovers his senses we'll be far enough away. Denounce me; +denounce him, will you?" she said, looking at Garvington while the +secretary slipped out of the room; "you do so at your own cost, my lord. +That forged letter won't tell in your favor. Ha!" she started to her +feet. "What's that! Who's here?"</p> + +<p>She might well ask. There was a struggle going on in the passage, and +she heard cries for help. Miss Greeby flung open the sitting-room door, +and Silver, embracing Mother Cockleshell, tumbled at her feet. "She got +in by the door you left open," cried Silver breathlessly, "hold her or +we are lost; we'll never get away."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't!" shouted the dishevelled old woman, producing a knife to +keep Miss Greeby at bay. "Chaldea came to the camp and I learned through +Kara how she'd brought you down, my Gentile lady. I went to tell the +golden rye, and he's on the way here with the village policeman. You're +done for."</p> + +<p>"Not yet." Miss Greeby darted under the uplifted knife and caught +Gentilla round the waist. The next moment the old woman was flung +against the wall, breathless and broken up. But she still contrived to +hurl curses at the murderess of her grandson.</p> + +<p>"I saw you shoot him; I saw you shoot him," screamed Mother Cockleshell, +trying to rise.</p> + +<p>"Silver, make for the motor; it's near the camp; follow the path," +ordered Miss Greeby breathlessly; "there's no time to be lost. As to +this old devil—" she snatched up a lamp as the secretary dashed out of +the house, and flung it fairly at Gentilla Stanley. In a moment the old +woman was yelling with agony, and scrambled to her feet a pillar of +fire. Miss Greeby laughed in a taunting manner and hurled another lamp +behind the sofa. "You'd have given me up also, would you, Garvington?" +she cried in her deep tone; "take that, and that, and that."</p> + +<p>Lamp after lamp was smashed and burst into flames, until only one was +left. Then Miss Greeby, seeing with satisfaction that the entire room +was on fire and hearing the sound of hasty footsteps and the echoing of +distant voices, rushed in her turn from the cottage. As she bolted the +voice of Garvington screaming with pain and dread was heard as he came +to his senses to find himself encircled by fire. And Mother Cockleshell +also shrieked, not so much because of her agony as to stop Miss Greeby +from escaping.</p> + +<p>"Rye! Rye! she's running; catch her; catch her. Aha—aha—aha!" and she +sank into the now blazing furnace of the room.</p> + +<p>The walls of the cottage were of mud, the partitions and roof of wood +and thatch, so the whole place soon burned like a bonfire. Miss Greeby +shot out of the door and strode at a quick pace across the glade. But as +she passed beyond the monoliths, Lambert, in company with a policeman, +made a sudden appearance and blocked her way of escape. With a grim +determination to thwart him she kilted up her skirts and leaped like a +kangaroo towards the undergrowth beneath the leafless trees. By this +time the flames were shooting through the thatched roof in long scarlet +streamers and illuminated the spectral wood with awful light.</p> + +<p>"Stop! stop!" cried Lambert, racing to cut off the woman's retreat, +closely followed by the constable.</p> + +<p>Miss Greeby laughed scornfully, and instead of avoiding them as they +crossed her path, she darted straight towards the pair. In a moment, by +a dexterous touch of her shoulders right and left, she knocked them over +by taking them unawares, and then sprang down the path which curved +towards the gypsies' encampment. At its end the motor was waiting, and +so vivid was the light that she saw Silver's black figure bending down +as he frantically strove to start the machine. She travelled at top +speed, fearful lest the man should escape without her.</p> + +<p>Then came an onrush of Romany, attracted to the glade by the fire. They +guessed from Miss Greeby's haste that something was seriously wrong and +tried to stop her. But, delivering blows straight from the shoulder, +here, there, and everywhere, the woman managed to break through, and +finally reached the end of the pathway. Here was the motor and safety, +since she hoped to make a dash for the nearest seaport and get out of +the kingdom before the police authorities could act.</p> + +<p>But the stars in their course fought against her. Silver, having started +the machinery, was already handling the steering gear, and bent only +upon saving his own miserable self, had put the car in motion. He could +only drive in a slip-slop amateur way and aimlessly zigzagged down the +sloping bank which fell away to the high road. As the motor began to +gather speed Miss Greeby ran for her life and liberty, ranging at length +breathlessly alongside. The gypsies tailed behind, shouting.</p> + +<p>"Stop, you beast!" screamed Miss Greeby, feeling fear for the first +time, and she tried to grab the car for the purpose of swinging herself +on board.</p> + +<p>But Silver urged it to greater speed. "I save myself; myself," he +shrieked shrilly and unhinged by deadly terror, "get away; get away."</p> + +<p>In his panic he twisted the wheel in the wrong direction, and the big +machine swerved obediently. The next moment Miss Greeby was knocked +down and writhed under the wheels. She uttered a tragic cry, but little +Silver cared for that. Rendered merciless with fear he sent the car +right over her body, and then drove desperately down the hill to gain +the hard road. Miss Greeby, with a broken back, lay on the ground and +saw as in a ghastly dream her machine flash roaring along the highway +driven by a man who could not manage it. Even in her pain a smile crept +over her pale face.</p> + +<p>"He's done for, the little beast," she muttered, "he'll smash. Lambert! +Lambert!" The man whose name she breathed had arrived as she spoke; and +knelt breathlessly beside her to raise her head. "You—you—oh, poor +creature!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"I'm done for, Lambert," she panted in deadly pain, "back broken. I +sinned for you, but—but you can't hang me. Look—look after +Garvington—Cockleshell too—look—look—Augh!" and she moaned.</p> + +<p>"Where are they?"</p> + +<p>"In—in—the—cottage," murmured the woman, and fell back in a fainting +condition with a would-be sneering laugh.</p> + +<p>Lambert started to his feet with an oath, and leaving the wretched woman +to the care of some gypsies, ran back to the glade. The cottage was a +mass of streaming, crackling flames, and there was no water to +extinguish these, as he realized with sudden fear. It was terrible to +think that the old woman and Garvington were burning in that furnace, +and desperately anxious to save at least one of the two, Lambert tried +to enter the door. But the heat of the fire drove him back, and the +flames seemed to roar at his discomfiture. He could do nothing but stand +helplessly and gaze upon what was plainly Garvington's funeral pyre.</p> + +<p>By this time the villagers were making for the wood, and the whole place +rang with cries of excitement and dismay. The wintry scene was revealed +only too clearly by the ruddy glare and by the same sinister light. +Lambert suddenly beheld Chaldea at his elbow. Gripping his arm, she +spoke hoarsely, "The tiny rye is dead. He drove the engine over a bank +and it smashed him to a pulp."</p> + +<p>"Oh! ah! And—and Miss Greeby?"</p> + +<p>"She is dying."</p> + +<p>Lambert clenched his hands and groaned, "Garvington and Mother +Cockleshell?"</p> + +<p>"She is dead and he is dead by now," said Chaldea, looking with a +callous smile at the burning cottage, "both are dead—Lord Garvington."</p> + +<p>"Lord Garvington?" Lambert groaned again. He had forgotten that he now +possessed the title and what remained of the family estates.</p> + +<p>"Avali!" cried Chaldea, clapping her hands and nodding toward the +cottage with a meaning smile, "there's the bonfire to celebrate the +luck."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI" />CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>A FINAL SURPRISE.</h3> + + +<p>A week later and Lambert was seated in the library of The Manor, looking +worn and anxious. His wan appearance was not due so much to what he had +passed through, trying as late events had been, as to his dread of what +Inspector Darby was about to say. That officer was beside him, getting +ready for an immediate conversation by turning over various papers which +he produced from a large and well-filled pocket-book. Darby looked +complacent and important, as an examination into the late tragedy had +added greatly to his reputation as a zealous officer. Things were now +more ship-shape, as Miss Greeby had died after making confession of her +crime and had been duly buried by her shocked relatives. The ashes of +Lord Garvington and Mother Cockleshell, recovered from the débris of +the cottage, had also been disposed of with religious ceremonies, and +Silver's broken body had been placed in an unwept grave. The frightful +catastrophe which had resulted in the death of four people had been the +talk of the United Kingdom for the entire seven days.</p> + +<p>What Lambert was dreading to hear was the report of Miss Greeby's +confession, which Inspector Darby had come to talk about. He had tried +to see her himself at the village inn, whither she had been transferred +to die, but she had refused to let him come to her dying bed, and +therefore he did not know in what state of mind she had passed away. +Judging from the vindictive spirit which she had displayed, Lambert +fancied that she had told Darby the whole wretched story of the forged +letter and the murder. The last was bound to be confessed, but the young +man had hoped against hope that Miss Greeby would be silent regarding +Garvington's share in the shameful plot. Wickedly as his cousin had +behaved, Lambert did not wish his memory to be smirched and the family +honor to be tarnished by a revelation of the little man's true +character. He heartily wished that the evil Garvington had done might +be buried with him, and the whole sordid affair forgotten.</p> + +<p>"First, my lord," said Darby leisurely, when his papers were in order, +"I have to congratulate your lordship on your accession to the title. +Hitherto so busy have I been that there has been no time to do this."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Inspector, but I regret that I should have succeeded +through so tragic a death."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, my lord! the feeling does you honor," Darby nodded +sympathetically; "but it must be some comfort for you to know that your +poor cousin perished when on an errand of mercy, although his aim was +not perhaps quite in accordance with strict justice."</p> + +<p>Lambert stared. "I don't know what you mean," he remarked, being puzzled +by this coupling of Garvington's name with any good deed.</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't, my lord. But for you to understand I had better +begin with Miss Greeby's confession. I must touch on some rather +intimate things, however," said the inspector rather shyly.</p> + +<p>"Meaning that Miss Greeby was in love with me."</p> + +<p>"Exactly, my lord. Her love for you—if you will excuse my mentioning so +private a subject—caused the whole catastrophe."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," the young man felt a sense of relief, as if Darby put the +matter in this way the truth about the forged letter could scarcely have +come to light, "will you explain?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, my lord. Miss Greeby always wished to marry your lordship, +but she knew that you loved your wife, the present Lady Garvington, who +was then Lady Agnes Pine. She believed that you and Lady Agnes would +sooner or later run away together."</p> + +<p>"There was no reason she should think so," said Noel, becoming scarlet.</p> + +<p>"Of course not, my lord. Pardon me again for speaking of such very +private matters. But I can scarcely make your lordship understand how +the late Sir Hubert Pine came by his death unless I am painfully frank."</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mr. Inspector," Noel leaned back and folded his arms. "Be frank +to the verge of rudeness, if you like."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, my lord; certainly not," Darby said in a shocked manner. +"I will be as delicate as I possibly can. Well, then, my lord, Miss +Greeby, thinking that you might elope with the then Lady Agnes Pine, +resolved to place an even greater barrier between you than the +marriage."</p> + +<p>"What could be a possibly greater barrier?"</p> + +<p>"Your honor, my lord, your strict sense of honor. Miss Greeby thought +that if she got rid of Sir Hubert, and Lady Agnes was in possession of +the millions, that you would never risk her losing the same for your +sake."</p> + +<p>"She was right in supposing that, Mr. Inspector, but how did Miss Greeby +know that Lady Agnes would lose the money if she married me?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Hubert told her so himself, my lord, when she discovered that he +was at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael Hearne."</p> + +<p>"His real name."</p> + +<p>"Of course, my lord; of course. And having made this discovery and +knowing how jealous Sir Hubert was of his wife—if you will pardon my +mentioning the fact—Miss Greeby laid a trap to lure him to The Manor +that he might be shot."</p> + +<p>The listener moved uneasily, and he now quite expected to hear the +revelation of Garvington's forgery. "Go on, Mr. Inspector."</p> + +<p>"Miss Greeby," pursued the officer, glancing at his notes, "knew that +the late Mark Silver, who was Sir Hubert's secretary, was not well +disposed toward his employer, as he fancied that he had been cheated out +of the proceeds of certain inventions. Miss Greeby worked on this point +and induced Silver to forge a letter purporting to come from Lady Agnes +to you saying that an elopement had been arranged."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Lambert drew a breath of relief, "so Silver laid a trap, did he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, and a very clever one. The letter was arranged by Silver +to fall into Sir Hubert's hands. That unfortunate gentleman came to the +blue door at the appointed time, then Miss Greeby, who had climbed out +of the window of her bedroom to hide in the shrubbery, shot the +unsuspecting man. She then got back into her room—and a very clever +climber she must have been, my lord—and afterward mingled with the +guests."</p> + +<p>"But why did she think of luring Sir Hubert to be shot?" asked Noel with +feigned ignorance, "when she ran such a risk of being discovered?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lord, therein lies the cleverness of the idea. Poor Lord +Garvington had threatened to shoot any burglar, and that gave Miss +Greeby the idea. It was her hope that your late cousin might kill Sir +Hubert by mistaking him for a robber, and she only posted herself in the +shrubbery to shoot if Sir Hubert was not killed. He was not, as we know +that the shot fired by Lord Garvington only broke his arm. Miss Greeby +made sure by killing him herself, and very cleverly she did so."</p> + +<p>"And what about my late cousin's philanthropic visit to Silver?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lord, that was a mistake. His lordship was informed of the +forged letter by Chaldea the gypsy girl, who found it in Sir Hubert's +tent, and for the sake of your family wished to get Silver out of the +country. It would have been dreadful—as Lord Garvington rightly +considered—that the name of his sister and your name should be +mentioned in connection with an elopement even though it was untrue. He +therefore went to induce Silver to leave the country, but the man, +instead of being grateful, stunned his lordship with a blow from a poker +which he had picked up."</p> + +<p>"How was that known, Mr. Inspector?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Greeby had the truth from his own lips. Silver threatened to +denounce her, and knowing this Chaldea went to London to warn her."</p> + +<p>"Oh," muttered Lambert, thinking of what Gentilla Stanley had said, "how +did she find out?"</p> + +<p>"She overheard a conversation between Silver and Lord Garvington in the +cottage."</p> + +<p>Lambert was relieved again, since Miss Greeby had not evidently +mentioned him as being mixed up with the matter. "Yes, Mr. Inspector, I +can guess the rest. This unfortunate woman came down to get Silver, who +could have hanged her, out of the country, and he set fire to the +cottage."</p> + +<p>"She set fire to it," corrected Darby quickly, "by chance, as she told +me, she overturned a lamp. Of course, Lord Garvington, being senseless, +was burned to death. Gentilla Stanley was also burned."</p> + +<p>"How did she come to be there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it seems that Gentilla followed Hearne—he was her grandson I hear +from the gypsies—to The Manor on that night and saw the shooting. But +she said nothing, not feeling sure if her unsupported testimony would be +sufficient to convict Miss Greeby. However, she watched that lady and +followed her to the cottage to denounce her and prevent the escape of +Silver—who knew the truth also, as she ascertained. Silver knocked the +old woman down and stunned her, so she also was burned to death. Then +Silver ran for the motor car and crushed Miss Greeby—since he could not +manage the machine."</p> + +<p>"Did he crush her on purpose, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Darby after a pause, "I don't think so. Miss Greeby was rich, +and if the pair of them had escaped Silver would have been able to +extort money. He no more killed her than he killed himself by dashing +into that chalk pit near the road. It was mismanagement of the motor in +both cases."</p> + +<p>Lambert was quiet for a time. "Is that all?" he asked, looking up.</p> + +<p>"All, my lord," answered the inspector, gathering his papers together.</p> + +<p>"Is anything else likely to appear in the papers?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord."</p> + +<p>"I noted," said Lambert slowly, "that there was no mention of the forged +letter made at the inquest."</p> + +<p>Darby nodded. "I arranged that, my lord, since the forged letter made so +free with your lordship's name and that of the present Lady Garvington. +As you probably saw, it was only stated that the late Sir Hubert had +gone to meet his secretary at The Manor and that Miss Greeby, knowing of +his coming, had shot him. The motive was ascribed as anger at the late +Sir Hubert for having lost a great sum of money which Miss Greeby +entrusted to him for the purpose of speculation."</p> + +<p>"And is it true that such money was entrusted and lost?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly true, my lord. I saw in that fact a chance of hiding the real +truth. It would do no good to make the forged letter public and would +cast discredit both on the dead and the living. Therefore all that has +been said does not even hint at the trap laid by Silver. Now that all +parties concerned are dead and buried, no more will be heard of the +matter, and your lordship can sleep in peace."</p> + +<p>The young man walked up and down the room for a few minutes while the +inspector made ready to depart. Noel was deeply touched by the man's +consideration and made up his mind that he should not lose by the +delicacy he had shown in preserving his name and that of Agnes from +the tongue of gossips. He saw plainly that Darby was a man he could +thoroughly trust and forthwith did so.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Inspector," he said, coming forward to shake hands, "you have acted +in a most kind and generous manner and I cannot show my appreciation of +your behavior more than by telling you the exact truth of this sad +affair."</p> + +<p>"I know the truth," said Darby staring.</p> + +<p>"Not the exact truth, which closely concerns the honor of my family. But +as you have saved that by suppressing certain evidence it is only right +that you should know more than you do know."</p> + +<p>"I shall keep quiet anything that you tell me, my lord," said Darby +greatly pleased; "that is, anything that is consistent with my official +duty."</p> + +<p>"Of course. Also I wish you to know exactly how matters stand, since +there may be trouble with Chaldea."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't think so, my lord. Chaldea has married that dwarf."</p> + +<p>"Kara, the Servian gypsy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She's given him a bad time, and he put up with it because he had +no authority over her; but now that she's his romi—as these people call +a wife—he'll make her dance to his playing. They left England yesterday +for foreign parts—Hungary, I fancy, my lord. The girl won't come back +in a hurry, for Kara will keep an eye on her."</p> + +<p>Lambert drew a long breath of relief. "I am glad," he said simply, "as +I never should have felt safe while she remained in England."</p> + +<p>"Felt safe?" echoed the officer suspiciously.</p> + +<p>His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again. Then, without +wasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter. +Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly over +the delinquency of the late Lord Garvington.</p> + +<p>"Well! Well!" said the inspector staring, "to think as a nobleman born +and bred should act in this way."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?" said Lambert +impatiently, "and according to the socialistic press all the evil of +humanity is to be found in aristocratic circles. However, you know the +exact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret which +concerns the honor of my family. You won't abuse my confidence."</p> + +<p>Darby rose and extended his hand. "You may be sure of that, my lord. +What you have told me will never be repeated. Everything in connection +with this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad and thankful," said the other, again drawing a breath of +relief, "and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shall +send you a substantial check."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord, I couldn't take it. I only did my duty."</p> + +<p>"I think you did a great deal more than that," answered the new Lord +Garvington dryly, "and had you acted entirely on the evidence you +gathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserable +woman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keep +private. Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteem +for a man."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord," replied the inspector straightly, "I don't deny +but what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me to +take it since you put it in that way. And as I am not a rich man the +money will be welcome. Thank you!"</p> + +<p>With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offered +up a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out so +admirably. His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer any +danger that the honor of the family, for which so much had been +sacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched. The young man +regretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposed +toward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had left +England under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth—if he knew +anything of the dwarf's jealous disposition—the girl would trouble him +no more. And Silver was dead and buried, which did away with any +possible trouble coming from that quarter. Finally, poor Miss Greeby, +who had sinned for love, was out of the way and there was no need to be +anxious on her account. Fate had made a clean sweep of all the actors in +the tragedy, and Lambert hoped that this particular play was ended.</p> + +<p>When the inspector went away, Lord Garvington sought out his wife and +his late cousin's widow. To them he reported all that had passed and +gave them the joyful assurance that nothing more would be heard in +connection with the late tragic events. Both ladies were delighted.</p> + +<p>"Poor Freddy," sighed Agnes, who had quite forgiven her brother now that +he had paid for his sins, "he behaved very badly; all the same he had +his good points, Noel."</p> + +<p>"Ah, he had, he had," said Lady Garvington, the widow, shaking her +untidy head, "he was selfish and greedy, and perhaps not so thoughtful +as he might have been, but there are worse people than poor Freddy."</p> + +<p>Noel could not help smiling at this somewhat guarded eulogy of the dead, +but did not pursue the subject. "Well, Jane, you must not grieve too +much."</p> + +<p>"No, I shall not," she admitted bluntly, "I am going to be quiet for a +few months and then perhaps I may marry again. But I shall marry a man +who lives on nuts and roots, my dear Noel. Never again," she shuddered, +"shall I bother about the kitchen. I shall burn Freddy's recipes and +cookery books."</p> + +<p>Lady Garvington evidently really felt relieved by the death of her +greedy little husband, although she tried her best to appear sorry. But +the twinkle of relief in her eyes betrayed her, and neither Noel nor +Agnes could blame her. She had enough to live on—since the new lord had +arranged this in a most generous manner—and she was free from the cares +of the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"So I'll go to London in a few days when I've packed up," said the widow +nodding, "you two dears can stay here for your second honeymoon."</p> + +<p>"It will be concerned with pounds, shillings, and pence, then," said +Agnes with a smile, "for Noel has to get the estate put in order. +Things are very bad just now, as I know for certain. But we must try to +save The Manor from going out of the family."</p> + +<p>It was at this moment, and while the trio wondered how the financial +condition of the Lamberts was to be improved, that a message came saying +that Mr. Jarwin wished to see Lord and Lady Garvington in the library. +Wondering what the lawyer had come about, and dreading further bad news, +the young couple descended, leaving the widow to her packing up. They +found the lean, dry solicitor waiting for them with a smiling face.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Agnes as she greeted him, "then it's not bad news?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," said Jarwin, with his cough, "it is the best of +news."</p> + +<p>Noel looked at him hard. "The best of news to me at the present moment +would be information about money," he said slowly. "I have a title, it +is true, but the estate is much encumbered."</p> + +<p>"You need not trouble about that, Lord Garvington; Mrs. Stanley has put +all that right."</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Agnes greatly agitated. "Has she made over the mortgages +to Noel? Oh, if she only has."</p> + +<p>"She has done better than that," remarked Jarwin, producing a paper of +no great size, "this is her will. She wanted to make a deed of gift, and +probably would have done so had she lived. But luckily she made the +will—and a hard-and-fast one it is—for I drew it up myself," said Mr. +Jarwin complacently.</p> + +<p>"How does the will concern us?" asked Agnes, catching Noel's hand with a +tremor, for she could scarcely grasp the hints of the lawyer.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Stanley, my dear lady, had a great regard for you since you nursed +her through a dangerous illness. Also you were, as she put it, a good +and true wife to her grandson. Therefore, as she approved of you and of +your second marriage, she has left the entire fortune of your late +husband to you and to Lord Garvington here."</p> + +<p>"Never!" cried Lambert growing pale, while his wife gasped with +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"It is true, and here is the proof," Jarwin shook the parchment, "one +million to you, Lord Garvington, and one million to your wife. Listen, +if you please," and the solicitor read the document in a formal manner +which left no doubt as to the truth of his amazing news. When he +finished the lucky couple looked at one another scarcely able to speak. +It was Agnes who recovered her voice first.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it can't be true—it can't be true," she cried. "Noel, pinch me, +for I must be dreaming."</p> + +<p>"It is true, as the will gives you to understand," said the lawyer, +smiling in his dry way, "and if I may be permitted to say so, Lady +Garvington, never was money more rightfully inherited. You surrendered +everything for the sake of true love, and it is only just that you +should be rewarded. If Mrs. Stanley had lived she intended to keep five +or six thousand for herself so that she could transport certain gypsies +to America, but she would undoubtedly have made a deed of gift of the +rest of the property. Oh, what a very fortunate thing it was that she +made this will," cried Jarwin, genuinely moved at the thought of the +possible loss of the millions, "for her unforeseen death would have +spoiled everything if I had not the forethought to suggest the +testament."</p> + +<p>"It is to you we owe our good fortune."</p> + +<p>"To Mrs. Gentilla Stanley—and to me partially. I only ask for my reward +that you will continue to allow me to see after the property. The fees," +added Jarwin with his dry cough, "will be considerable."</p> + +<p>"You can rob us if you like," said Noel, slapping him on the back. +"Well, to say that I am glad is to speak weakly. I am overjoyed. With +this money we can restore the fortunes of the family again."</p> + +<p>"They will be placed higher than they have ever been before," cried +Agnes with a shining face. "Two millions. Oh, what a lot of good we can +do."</p> + +<p>"To yourselves?" inquired Jarwin dryly.</p> + +<p>"And to others also," said Lambert gravely. "God has been so good to us +that we must be good to others."</p> + +<p>"Then be good to me, Lord Garvington," said the solicitor, putting away +the will in his bag, "for I am dying of hunger. A little luncheon—"</p> + +<p>"A very big one."</p> + +<p>"I am no great eater," said Jarwin, and walked toward the door, "a wash +and brush-up and a plate of soup will satisfy me. And I will say again +what I said before to both of you, that you thoroughly deserve your good +fortune. Lord Garvington, you are the luckier of the two, as you have a +wife who is far above rubies, and—and—dear me, I am talking romance. +So foolish at my age. To think—well—well, I am extremely hungry, so +don't let luncheon be long before it appears," and with a croaking laugh +at his jokes the lawyer disappeared.</p> + +<p>Left alone the fortunate couple fell into one another's arms. It seemed +incredible that the past storm should have been succeeded by so +wonderful a calm. They had been tested by adversity, and they had proved +themselves to be of sterling metal. Before them the future stretched in +a long, smooth road under sunny blue skies, and behind them the black +clouds, out of which they had emerged, were dispersing into thin air. +Evil passes, good endures.</p> + +<p>"Two millions!" sighed Agnes joyfully.</p> + +<p>"Of red money," remarked her husband.</p> + +<p>"Why do you call it that?"</p> + +<p>"Mother Cockleshell—bless her!—called it so because it was tainted +with blood. But we must cleanse the stains, Agnes, by using much of it +to help all that are in trouble. God has been good in settling our +affairs in this way, but He has given me a better gift than the money."</p> + +<p>"What is that?" asked Lady Garvington softly.</p> + +<p>"The love of my dear wife," said the happiest of men to the happiest of +women.</p> + + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Popular_Detective_Stories_by_Fergus_Hume" id="Popular_Detective_Stories_by_Fergus_Hume" />Popular Detective Stories by Fergus Hume</h2> + +<p>Claude Duval of '95<br/> +A Coin of Edward VII<br/> +The Disappearing Eye<br/> +The Green Mummy<br/> +Lady Jim of Curzon Street<br/> +The Mandarin's Fan<br/> +The Mystery of a Hansom Cab<br/> +The Mystery Queen<br/> +The Opal Serpent<br/> +The Pagan's Cup<br/> +The Rainbow Feather<br/> +Red Money<br/> +The Red Window<br/> +The Sacred Herb<br/> +The Sealed Message<br/> +The Secret Passage<br/> +The Solitary Farm<br/> +The Steel Crown<br/> +The Yellow Holly<br/> +The Peacock of Jewels</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Money, by Fergus Hume + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 15356-h.htm or 15356-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/3/5/15356/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/15356.txt b/15356.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8754d5c --- /dev/null +++ b/15356.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10804 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Money, by Fergus Hume + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Red Money + +Author: Fergus Hume + +Release Date: March 14, 2005 [EBook #15356] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + RED MONEY + + BY FERGUS HUME + +Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "The Solitary Farm," "The +Peacock of Jewels," "The Red Window," "The Steel Crown," etc. + + 1911 + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + I. THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS + + II. IN THE WOOD + + III. AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION + + IV. SECRETS + + V. THE WOMAN AND THE MAN + + VI. THE MAN AND THE WOMAN + + VII. THE SECRETARY + + VIII. AT MIDNIGHT + + IX. AFTERWARDS + + X. A DIFFICULT POSITION + + XI. BLACKMAIL + + XII. THE CONSPIRACY + + XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED + + XIV. MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE + + XV. GUESSWORK + + XVI. THE LAST STRAW + + XVII. ON THE TRAIL + + XVIII. AN AMAZING ACCUSATION + + XIX. MOTHER COCKLESHELL + + XX. THE DESTINED END + + XXI. A FINAL SURPRISE + + + + +RED MONEY + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS. + + +"Gypsies! How very delightful! I really must have my fortune told. The +dear things know all about the future." + +As Mrs. Belgrove spoke she peered through her lorgnette to see if anyone +at the breakfast-table was smiling. The scrutiny was necessary, since +she was the oldest person present, and there did not appear to be any +future for her, save that very certain one connected with a funeral. But +a society lady of sixty, made up to look like one of forty (her maid +could do no more), with an excellent digestion and a constant desire, +like the Athenians of old, for "Something New!" can scarcely be expected +to dwell upon such a disagreeable subject as death. Nevertheless, Mrs. +Belgrove could not disguise from herself that her demise could not be +postponed for many more years, and examined the faces of the other +guests to see if they thought so too. If anyone did, he and she politely +suppressed a doubtful look and applauded the suggestion of a +fortune-telling expedition. + +"Let us make up a party and go," said the hostess, only too thankful to +find something to amuse the house-party for a few hours. "Where did you +say the gypsies were, Garvington?" + +"In the Abbot's Wood," replied her husband, a fat, small round-faced +man, who was methodically devouring a large breakfast. + +"That's only three miles away. We can drive or ride." + +"Or motor, or bicycle, or use Shanks' mare," remarked Miss Greeby rather +vulgarly. Not that any one minded such a speech from her, as her +vulgarity was merely regarded as eccentricity, because she had money and +brains, an exceedingly long tongue, and a memory of other people's +failings to match. + +Lord Garvington made no reply, as breakfast, in his opinion, was much +too serious a business to be interrupted. He reached for the marmalade, +and requested that a bowl of Devonshire cream should be passed along. +His wife, who was lean and anxious-looking even for an August hostess, +looked at him wrathfully. He never gave her any assistance in +entertaining their numerous guests, yet always insisted that the house +should be full for the shooting season. And being poor for a titled +pair, they could not afford to entertain even a shoeblack, much less a +crowd of hungry sportsmen and a horde of frivolous women, who required +to be amused expensively. It was really too bad of Garvington. + +At this point the reflections of the hostess were interrupted by Miss +Greeby, who always had a great deal to say, and who always tried, as an +American would observe, "to run the circus." "I suppose you men will go +out shooting as usual?" she said in her sharp, clear voice. + +The men present collectively declared that such was their intention, and +that they had come to "The Manor" for that especial purpose, so it was +useless to ask them, or any one of them, to go on a fortune-telling +expedition when they could find anything of that sort in Bond Street. +"And it's all a lot of rot, anyhow," declared one sporting youth with +obviously more muscle and money than brains; "no one can tell my +fortune." + +"I can, Billy. You will be Prime Minister," flashed out Miss Greeby, at +which there was a general laugh. Then Garvington threw a bombshell. + +"You'd better get your fortunes told to-day, if you want to," he +grunted, wiping his mustache; "for to-morrow I'm going to have these +rotters moved off my land straight away. They're thieves and liars." + +"So are many other people," snapped Miss Greeby, who had lost heavily at +bridge on the previous night and spoke feelingly. + +Her host paid no attention to her. "There's been a lot of burglaries in +this neighborhood of late. I daresay these gypsies are mixed up in +them." + +"Burglaries!" cried Mrs. Belgrove, and turned pale under her rouge, as +she remembered that she had her diamonds with her. + +"Oh, it's all right! Don't worry," said Garvington, pushing back his +chair. "They won't try on any games in this house while I'm here. If any +one tries to get in I'll shoot the beast." + +"Is that allowed by law?" asked an army officer with a shrug. + +"I don't know and I don't care," retorted Garvington. "An Englishman's +house is his castle, you know, and he can jolly well shoot any one who +tries to get into it. Besides, I shouldn't mind potting a burglar. Great +sport." + +"You'd ask his intentions first, I presume," said Lady Garvington +tartly. + +"Not me. Any one getting into the house after dark doesn't need his +intentions to be asked. I'd shoot." + +"What about Romeo?" asked a poetic-looking young man. "He got into +Juliet's house, but did not come as a burglar." + +"He came as a guest, I believe," said a quiet, silvery voice at the end +of the table, and every one turned to look at Lady Agnes Pine, who had +spoken. + +She was Garvington's sister, and the wife of Sir Hubert Pine, the +millionaire, who was absent from the house party on this occasion. As a +rule, she spoke little, and constantly wore a sad expression on her pale +and beautiful face. And Agnes Pine really was beautiful, being one of +those tall, slim willowy-looking women who always look well and act +charmingly. And, indeed, her undeniable charm of manner probably had +more to do with her reputation as a handsome woman than her actual +physical grace. With her dark hair and dark eyes, her Greek features and +ivory skin faintly tinted with a tea-rose hue, she looked very lovely +and very sad. Why she should be, was a puzzle to many women, as being +the wife of a superlatively rich man, she had all the joys that money +could bring her. Still it was hinted on good authority--but no one ever +heard the name of the authority--that Garvington being poor had forced +her into marrying Sir Hubert, for whom she did not care in the least. +People said that her cousin Noel Lambert was the husband of her choice, +but that she had sacrificed herself, or rather had been compelled to do +so, in order that Garvington might be set on his legs. But Lady Agnes +never gave any one the satisfaction of knowing the exact truth. She +moved through the social world like a gentle ghost, fulfilling her +duties admirably, but apparently indifferent to every one and +everything. "Clippin' to look at," said the young men, "but tombs to +talk to. No sport at all." But then the young men did not possess the +key to Lady Agnes Pine's heart. Nor did her husband apparently. + +Her voice was very low and musical, and every one felt its charm. +Garvington answered her question as he left the room. "Romeo or no +Romeo, guest or no guest," he said harshly, "I'll shoot any beast who +tries to enter my house. Come on, you fellows. We start in half an hour +for the coverts." + +When the men left the room, Miss Greeby came and sat down in a vacant +seat near her hostess. "What did Garvington mean by that last speech?" +she asked with a significant look at Lady Agnes. + +"Oh, my dear, when does Garvington ever mean anything?" said the other +woman fretfully. "He is so selfish; he leaves me to do everything." + +"Well," drawled Miss Greeby with a pensive look on her masculine +features, "he looked at Agnes when he spoke." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Lady Garvington sharply. + +Miss Greeby gave a significant laugh. "I notice that Mr. Lambert is not +in the house," she said carelessly. "But some one told me he was near at +hand in the neighborhood. Surely Garvington doesn't mean to shoot him." + +"Clara." The hostess sat up very straight, and a spot of color burned on +either sallow cheek. "I am surprised at you. Noel is staying in the +Abbot's Wood Cottage, and indulging in artistic work of some sort. But +he can come and stay here, if he likes. You don't mean to insinuate that +he would climb into the house through a window after dark like a +burglar?" + +"That's just what I do mean," retorted Miss Greeby daringly, "and if he +does, Garvington will shoot him. He said so." + +"He said nothing of the sort," cried Lady Garvington, angrily rising. + +"Well, he meant it. I saw him looking at Agnes. And we know that Sir +Hubert is as jealous as Othello. Garvington is on guard I suppose, +and--" + +"Will you hold your tongue?" whispered the mistress of the Manor +furiously, and she would have shaken Miss Greeby, but that she had +borrowed money from her and did not dare to incur her enmity. "Agnes +will hear you; she is looking this way; can't you see?" + +"As if I cared," laughed Miss Greeby, pushing out her full lower lip in +a contemptuous manner. However, for reasons best known to herself, she +held her peace, although she would have scorned the idea that the hint +of her hostess made her do so. + +Lady Garvington saw that her guests were all chattering with one +another, and that the men were getting ready to leave for the day's +shooting, so she went to discuss the dinner in the housekeeper's room. +But all the time she and the housekeeper were arguing what Lord +Garvington would like in the way of food, the worried woman was +reflecting on what Miss Greeby had said. When the menu was finally +settled--no easy task when it concerned the master of the house--Lady +Garvington sought out Mrs. Belgrove. That juvenile ancient was sunning +herself on the terrace, in the hope of renewing her waning vitality, +and, being alone, permitted herself to look old. She brisked up with a +kittenish purr when disturbed, and remarked that the Hengishire air was +like champagne. "My spirits are positively wild and wayward," said the +would-be Hebe with a desperate attempt to be youthful. + +"Ah, you haven't got the house to look after," sighed Lady Garvington, +with a weary look, and dropped into a basket chair to pour out her woes +to Mrs. Belgrove. That person was extremely discreet, as years of +society struggling had taught her the value of silence. Her discretion +in this respect brought her many confidences, and she was renowned for +giving advice which was never taken. + +"What's the matter, my dear? You look a hundred," said Mrs. Belgrove, +putting up her lorgnette with a chuckle, as if she had made an original +observation. But she had not, for Lady Garvington always appeared worn +and weary, and sallow, and untidy. She was the kind of absent-minded +person who depended upon pins to hold her garments together, and who +would put on her tiara crookedly for a drawing-room. + +"Clara Greeby's a cat," said poor, worried Lady Garvington, hunting for +her pocket handkerchief, which was rarely to be found. + +"Has she been making love to Garvington?" + +"Pooh! No woman attracts Garvington unless she can cook, or knows +something about a kitchen range. I might as well have married a soup +tureen. I'm sure I don't know why I ever did marry him," lamented the +lady, staring at the changing foliage of the park trees. "He's a pauper +and a pig, my dear, although I wouldn't say so to every one. I wish my +mother hadn't insisted that I should attend cooking classes." + +"What on earth has that to do with it?" + +"To do with what?" asked Lady Garvington absentmindedly. "I don't know +what you're talking about, I'm sure. But mother knew that Garvington was +fond of a good dinner, and made me attend those classes, so as to learn +to talk about French dishes. We used to flirt about soups and creams and +haunches of venison, until he thought that I was as greedy as he was. So +he married me, and I've been attending to his meals ever since. Why, +even for our honeymoon we went to Mont St. Michel. They make splendid +omelettes there, and Garvington ate all the time. Ugh!" and the poor +lady shuddered. + +Mrs. Belgrove saw that her companion was meandering, and would never +come to the point unless forced to face it, so she rapped her knuckles +with the lorgnette. "What about Clara Greeby?" she demanded sharply. + +"She's a cat!" + +"Oh, we're all cats, mewing or spitting as the fit takes us," said Mrs. +Belgrove comfortably. "I can't see why cat should be a term of +opprobrium when applied to a woman. Cats are charmingly pretty animals, +and know what they want, also how to get it. Well, my dear?" + +"I believe she was in love with Noel herself," ruminated Lady +Garvington. + +"Who was in love? Come to the point, my dear Jane." + +"Clara Greeby." + +Mrs. Belgrove laughed. "Oh, that ancient history. Every one who was +anybody knew that Clara would have given her eyes--and very ugly eyes +they are--to have married Noel Lambert. I suppose you mean him? Noel +isn't a common name. Quite so. You mean him. Well, Clara wanted to buy +him. He hasn't any money, and as a banker's heiress she is as rich as a +Jew. But he wouldn't have her." + +"Why wouldn't he?" asked Lady Garvington, waking up--she had been +reflecting about a new soup which she hoped would please her husband. +"Clara has quite six thousand a year, and doesn't look bad when her maid +makes her dress in a proper manner. And, talking about maids, mine wants +to leave, and--" + +"She's too like Boadicea," interrupted Mrs. Belgrove, keeping her +companion to the subject of Miss Greeby. "A masculine sort of hussy. +Noel is far too artistic to marry such a maypole. She's six foot two, if +she's an inch, and her hands and feet--" Mrs. Belgrove shuddered with a +gratified glance at her own slim fingers. + +"You know the nonsense that Garvington was talking; about shooting a +burglar," said the other woman vaguely. "Such nonsense, for I'm sure no +burglar would enter a house filled with nothing but Early Victorian +furniture." + +"Well? Well? Well?" said Mrs. Belgrove impatiently. + +"Clara Beeby thought that Garvington meant to shoot Noel." + +"Why, in heaven's name! Because Noel is his heir?" + +"I'm sure I can't help it if I've no children," said Lady Garvington, +going off on another trail--the one suggested by Mrs. Belgrove's remark. +"I'd be a happier woman if I had something else to attend to than +dinners. I wish we all lived on roots, so that Garvington could dig them +up for himself." + +"My dear, he'd send you out with a trowel to do that," said Mrs. +Belgrove humorously. "But why does Garvington want to shoot Noel?" + +"Oh, he doesn't. I never said he did. Clara Greeby made the remark. You +see, Noel loved Agnes before she married Hubert, and I believe he loves +her still, which isn't right, seeing she's married, and isn't half so +good-looking as she was. And Noel stopping at that cottage in the +Abbot's Wood painting in water-colors. I think he is, but I'm not sure +if it isn't in oils, and the--" + +"Well? Well? Well?" asked Mrs. Belgrove again. + +"It isn't well at all, when you think what a tongue Clara Greeby has," +snapped Lady Garvington. "She said if Noel came to see Agnes by night, +Garvington, taking him for a burglar, might shoot him. She insisted that +he looked at Agnes when he was talking about burglars, and meant that." + +"What nonsense!" cried Mrs. Belgrove vigorously, at last having arrived +at a knowledge of why Lady Garvington had sought her. "Noel can come +here openly, so there is no reason he should steal here after dark." + +"Well, he's romantic, you know, dear. And romantic people always prefer +windows to doors and darkness to light. The windows here are so +insecure," added Lady Garvington, glancing at the facade above her +untidy hair. "He could easily get in by sticking a penknife in between +the upper and lower sash of the window. It would be quite easy." + +"What nonsense you talk, Jane," said Mrs. Belgrove, impatiently. "Noel +is not the man to come after a married woman when her husband is away. I +have known him since he was a Harrow schoolboy, so I have every right to +speak. Where is Sir Hubert?" + +"He is at Paris or Pekin, or something with a 'P,'" said Lady Garvington +in her usual vague way. "I'm sure I don't know why he can't take Agnes +with him. They get on very well for a married couple." + +"All the same she doesn't love him." + +"He loves her, for I'm sure he's that jealous that he can't scarcely +bear her out of his sight." + +"It seems to me that he can," remarked Mrs. Belgrove dryly. "Since he is +at Paris or Pekin and she is here." + +"Garvington is looking after her, and he owes Sir Hubert too much, not +to see that Agnes is all right." + +Mrs. Belgrove peered at Lady Garvington through her lorgnette. "I think +you talk a great deal of nonsense, Jane, as I said before," she +observed. "I don't suppose for one moment that Agnes thinks of Noel, or +Noel of Agnes." + +"Clara Greeby says--" + +"Oh, I know what she says and what she wishes. She would like to get +Noel into trouble with Sir Hubert over Agnes, simply because he will not +marry her. As to her chatter about burglars--" + +"Garvington's chatter," corrected her companion. + +"Well, then, Garvington's. It's all rubbish. Agnes is a sweet girl, +and--" + +"Girl?" Lady Garvington laughed disdainfully. "She is twenty-five." + +"A mere baby. People cannot be called old until they are seventy or +eighty. It is a bad habit growing old. I have never encouraged it +myself. By the way, tell me something about Sir Hubert Pine. I have only +met him once or twice. What kind of a man is he?" + +"Tall, and thin, and dark, and--" + +"I know his appearance. But his nature?" + +"He's jealous, and can be very disagreeable when he likes. I don't know +who he is, or where he came from. He made his money out of penny toys +and South African investments. He was a member of Parliament for a few +years, and helped his party so much with money that he was knighted. +That's all I know of him, except that he is very mean." + +"Mean? What you tell me doesn't sound mean." + +"I'm talking of his behavior to Garvington," explained the hostess, +touching her ruffled hair, "he doesn't give us enough money." + +"Why should he give you any?" asked Mrs. Belgrove bluntly. + +"Well, you see, dear, Garvington would never have allowed his sister to +marry a nobody, unless--" + +"Unless the nobody paid for his footing. I quite understand. Every one +knows that Agnes married the man to save her family from bankruptcy. +Poor girl!" Mrs. Belgrove sighed. "And she loved Noel. What a shame that +she couldn't become his wife!" + +"Oh, that would have been absurd," said Lady Garvington pettishly. +"What's the use of Hunger marrying Thirst? Noel has no money, just like +ourselves, and if it hadn't been for Hubert this place would have been +sold long ago. I'm telling you secrets, mind." + +"My dear, you tell me nothing that everybody doesn't know." + +"Then what is your advice?" + +"About what, my dear?" + +"About what I have been telling you. The burglar, and--" + +"I have told you before, that it is rubbish. If a burglar does come here +I hope Lord Garvington will shoot him, as I don't want to lose my +diamonds." + +"But if the burglar is Noel?" + +"He won't be Noel. Clara Greeby has simply made a nasty suggestion which +is worthy of her. But if you're afraid, why not get her to marry Noel?" + +"He won't have her," said Lady Garvington dolefully. + +"I know he won't. Still a persevering woman can do wonders, and Clara +Greeby has no self-respect. And if you think Noel is too near, get Agnes +to join her husband in Pekin." + +"I think it's Paris." + +"Well then, Paris. She can buy new frocks." + +"Agnes doesn't care for new frocks. Such simple tastes she has, wanting +to help the poor. Rubbish, I call it." + +"Why, when her husband helps Lord Garvington?" asked Mrs. Belgrove +artlessly. + +Lady Garvington frowned. "What horrid things you say." + +"I only repeat what every one is saying." + +"Well, I'm sure I don't care," cried Lady Garvington recklessly, and +rose to depart on some vague errand. "I'm only in the world to look +after dinners and breakfasts. Clara Greeby's a cat making all this fuss +about--" + +"Hush! There she is." + +Lady Garvington fluttered round, and drifted towards Miss Greeby, who +had just stepped out on to the terrace. The banker's daughter was in a +tailor-made gown with a man's cap and a man's gloves, and a man's +boots--at least, as Mrs. Belgrove thought, they looked like that--and +carried a very masculine stick, more like a bludgeon than a cane. With +her ruddy complexion and ruddy hair, and piercing blue eyes, and +magnificent figure--for she really had a splendid figure in spite of +Mrs. Belgrove's depreciation--she looked like a gigantic Norse goddess. +With a flashing display of white teeth, she came along swinging her +stick, or whirling her shillalah, as Mrs. Belgrove put it, and seemed +the embodiment of coarse, vigorous health. + +"Taking a sun-bath?" she inquired brusquely and in a loud baritone +voice. "Very wise of you two elderly things. I am going for a walk." + +Mrs. Belgrove was disagreeable in her turn. "Going to the Abbot's Wood?" + +"How clever of you to guess," Miss Greeby smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm +going to look up Lambert"; she always spoke of her male friends in this +hearty fashion. "He ought to be here enjoying himself instead of living +like a hermit in the wilds." + +"He's painting pictures," put in Lady Garvington. "Do hermits paint?" + +"No. Only society women do that," said Miss Greeby cheerfully, and Mrs. +Belgrove's faded eyes flashed. She knew that the remark was meant for +her, and snapped back. "Are you going to have your fortune told by the +gypsies, dear?" she inquired amiably. "They might tell you about your +marriage." + +"Oh, I daresay, and if you ask they will prophesy your funeral." + +"I am in perfect health, Miss Greeby." + +"So I should think, since your cheeks are so red." + +Lady Garvington hastily intervened to prevent the further exchange of +compliments. "Will you be back to luncheon, or join the men at the +coverts?" + +"Neither. I'll drop on Lambert for a feed. Where are you going?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," said the hostess vaguely. "There's lots to do. +I shall know what's to be done, when I think of it," and she drifted +along the terrace and into the house like a cloud blown any way by the +wind. Miss Greeby looked after her limp figure with a contemptuous grin, +then she nodded casually to Mrs. Belgrove, and walked whistling down the +terrace steps. + +"Cat, indeed!" commented Mrs. Belgrove to herself when she saw Miss +Greeby's broad back disappear behind the laurels. "Nothing half so +pretty. She's like a great Flanders mare. And I wish Henry VIII was +alive to marry her," she added the epithet suggesting that king, "if +only to cut her head off." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +IN THE WOOD. + + +Miss Greeby swung along towards her destination with a masculine stride +and in as great a hurry as though she had entered herself for a Marathon +race. It was a warm, misty day, and the pale August sunshine radiated +faintly through the smoky atmosphere. Nothing was clear-cut and nothing +was distinct, so hazy was the outlook. The hedges were losing their +greenery and had blossomed forth into myriad bunches of ruddy hips and +haws, and the usually hard road was soft underfoot because of the +penetrating quality of the moist air. There was no wind to clear away +the misty greyness, but yellow leaves without its aid dropped from the +disconsolate trees. The lately-reaped fields, stretching on either side +of the lane down which the lady was walking, presented a stubbled +expanse of brown and dim gold, uneven and distressful to the eye. The +dying world was in ruins and Nature had reduced herself to that +necessary chaos, out of which, when the coming snow completed its task, +she would build a new heaven and a new earth. + +An artist might have had some such poetic fancy, and would certainly +have looked lovingly on the alluring colors and forms of decay. But Miss +Greeby was no artist, and prided herself upon being an aggressively +matter-of-fact young woman. With her big boots slapping the ground and +her big hands thrust into the pockets of her mannish jacket, she bent +her head in a meditative fashion and trudged briskly onward. What +romance her hard nature was capable of, was uppermost now, but it +had to do strictly with her personal feelings and did not require the +picturesque autumn landscape to improve or help it in any way. One man's +name suggested romance to bluff, breezy Clara Greeby, and that name was +Noel Lambert. She murmured it over and over again to her heart, and her +hard face flushed into something almost like beauty, as she remembered +that she would soon behold its owner. "But he won't care," she said +aloud, and threw back her head defiantly: then after a pause, she +breathed softly, "But I shall make him care." + +If she hoped to do so, the task was one which required a great amount of +skill and a greater amount of womanly courage, neither of which +qualities Miss Greeby possessed. She had no skill in managing a man, as +her instincts were insufficiently feminine, and her courage was of a +purely rough-and-tumble kind. She could have endured hunger and thirst +and cold: she could have headed a forlorn hope: she could have held to a +sinking ship: but she had no store of that peculiar feminine courage +which men don't understand and which women can't explain, however much +they may exhibit it. Miss Greeby was an excellent comrade, but could not +be the beloved of any man, because of the very limitations of +semi-masculinity upon which she prided herself. Noel Lambert wanted a +womanly woman, and Lady Agnes was his ideal of what a wife should be. +Miss Greeby had in every possible way offered herself for the post, but +Lambert had never cared for her sufficiently to endure the thought of +passing through life with her beside him. He said she was "a good sort"; +and when a man says that of a woman, she may be to him a good friend, or +even a platonic chum, but she can never be a desirable wife in his eyes. +What Miss Greeby lacked was sex, and lacking that, lacked everything. It +was strange that with her rough common sense she could not grasp this +want. But the thought that Lambert required what she could never +give--namely, the feminine tenderness which strong masculine natures +love--never crossed her very clear and mathematical mind. + +So she was bent upon a fool's errand, as she strode towards the Abbot's +Wood, although she did not know it. Her aim was to capture Lambert as +her husband; and her plan, to accomplish her wish by working on the +heart-hunger he most probably felt, owing to the loss of Agnes Pine. If +he loved that lady in a chivalrous fashion--and Miss Greeby believed +that he did--she was absolutely lost to him as the wife of another man. +Lambert would never degrade her into a divorce court appearance. And +perhaps, after all, as Miss Greeby thought hopefully, his love for Sir +Hubert's wife might have turned to scorn that she had preferred money to +true love. But then, again, as Miss Greeby remembered, with a darkening +face, Agnes had married the millionaire so as to save the family estates +from being sold. Rank has its obligation, and Lambert might approve of +the sacrifice, since he was the next heir to the Garvington title. "We +shall see what his attitude is," decided Miss Greeby, as she entered the +Abbot's Wood, and delayed arranging her future plans until she fully +understood his feelings towards the woman he had lost. In the meantime, +Lambert would want a comrade, and Miss Greeby was prepared to sink her +romantic feelings, for the time being, in order to be one. + +The forest--which belonged to Garvington, so long as he paid the +interest on the mortgage--was not a very large one. In the old days it +had been of greater size and well stocked with wild animals; so well +stocked, indeed, that the abbots of a near monastery had used it for +many hundred years as a hunting ground. But the monastery had vanished +off the face of the earth, as not even its ruins were left, and the game +had disappeared as the forest grew smaller and the district around +became more populous. A Lambert of the Georgian period--the family name +of Lord Garvington was Lambert--had acquired what was left of the +monastic wood by winning it at a game of cards from the nobleman who had +then owned it. Now it was simply a large patch of green in the middle of +a somewhat naked county, for Hengishire is not remarkable for woodlands. +There were rabbits and birds, badgers, stoats, and such-like wild things +in it still, but the deer which the abbots had hunted were conspicuous +by their absence. Garvington looked after it about as much as he did +after the rest of his estates, which was not saying much. The fat, round +little lord's heart was always in the kitchen, and he preferred eating +to fulfilling his duties as a landlord. Consequently, the Abbot's Wood +was more or less public property, save when Garvington turned crusty and +every now and then cleared out all interlopers. But tramps came to sleep +in the wood, and gypsies camped in its glades, while summer time brought +many artists to rave about its sylvan beauties, and paint pictures of +ancient trees and silent pools, and rugged lawns besprinkled with +rainbow wild flowers. People who went to the Academy and to the various +art exhibitions in Bond Street knew the Abbot's Wood fairly well, as it +was rarely that at least one picture dealing with it did not appear. + +Miss Greeby had explored the wood before and knew exactly where to find +the cottage mentioned by Lady Garvington. On the verge of the trees she +saw the blue smoke of the gypsies' camp fires, and heard the vague +murmur of Romany voices, but, avoiding the vagrants, she took her way +through the forest by a winding path. This ultimately led her to a +spacious glade, in the centre of which stood a dozen or more rough +monoliths of mossy gray and weather-worn stones, disposed in a circle. +Probably these were all that remained of some Druidical temple, and +archaeologists came from far and near to view the weird relics. And in +the middle of the circle stood the cottage: a thatched dwelling, which +might have had to do with a fairy tale, with its whitewashed walls +covered with ivy, and its latticed windows, on the ledges of which stood +pots of homely flowers. There was no fence round this rustic dwelling, +as the monoliths stood as guardians, and the space between the cottage +walls and the gigantic stones was planted thickly with fragrant English +flowers. Snapdragon, sweet-william, marigolds, and scented clove +carnations, were all to be found there: also there was thyme, mint, +sage, and other pot-herbs. And the whole perfumed space was girdled by +trees old and young, which stood back from the emerald beauty of +untrimmed lawns. A more ideal spot for a dreamer, or an artist, or a +hermit, or for the straying prince of a fairy tale, it would have been +quite impossible to find. Miss Greeby's vigorous and coarse personality +seemed to break in a noisy manner--although she did not utter a single +word--the enchanted silence of the solitary place. + +However, the intruder was too matter-of-fact to trouble about the +sequestered liveliness of this unique dwelling. She strode across the +lawns, and passing beyond the monoliths, marched like an invader up the +narrow path between the radiant flower-beds. From the tiny green door +she raised the burnished knocker and brought it down with an emphatic +bang. Shortly the door opened with a pettish tug, as though the person +behind was rather annoyed by the noise, and a very tall, well-built, +slim young man made his appearance on the threshold. He held a palette +on the thumb of one hand, and clutched a sheaf of brushes, while another +brush was in his mouth, and luckily impeded a rather rough welcome. The +look in a pair of keen blue eyes certainly seemed to resent the +intrusion, but at the sight of Miss Greeby this irritability changed to +a glance of suspicion. Lambert, from old associations, liked his visitor +very well on the whole, but that feminine intuition, which all creative +natures possess, warned him that it was wise to keep her at arm's +length. She had never plainly told her love; but she had assuredly +hinted at it more or less by eye and manner and undue hauntings of his +footsteps when in London. He could not truthfully tell himself that he +was glad of her unexpected visit. For quite half a minute they stood +staring at one another, and Miss Greeby's hard cheeks flamed to a poppy +red at the sight of the man she loved. + +"Well, Hermit." she observed, when he made no remark. "As the mountain +would not come to Mahomet, the prophet has come to the mountain." + +"The mountain is welcome," said Lambert diplomatically, and stood +aside, so that she might enter. Then adopting the bluff and breezy, +rough-and-ready-man-to-man attitude, which Miss Greeby liked to see in +her friends, he added: "Come in, old girl! It's a pal come to see a pal, +isn't it?" + +"Rather," assented Miss Greeby, although, woman-like, she was not +entirely pleased with this unromantic welcome. "We played as brats +together, didn't we? + +"Yes," she added meditatively, when following Lambert into his studio, +"I think we are as chummy as a man and woman well can be." + +"True enough. You were always a good sort, Clara. How well you are +looking--more of a man than ever." + +"Oh, stop that!" said Miss Greeby roughly. + +"Why?" Lambert raised his eyebrows. "As a girl you always liked to be +thought manly, and said again and again that you wished you were a boy." + +"I find that I am a woman, after all," sighed the visitor, dropping into +a chair and looking round; "with a woman's feelings, too." + +"And very nice those feelings are, since they have influenced you to pay +me a visit in the wilds," remarked the artist imperturbably. + +"What are you doing in the wilds?" + +"Painting," was the laconic retort. + +"So I see. Still-life pictures?" + +"Not exactly." He pointed toward the easel. "Behold and approve." + +Miss Greeby did behold, but she certainly did not approve, because she +was a woman and in love. It was only a pictured head she saw, but the +head was that of a very beautiful girl, whose face smiled from the +canvas in a subtle, defiant way, as if aware of its wild loveliness. The +raven hair streamed straightly down to the shoulders--for the bust of +the model was slightly indicated--and there, bunched out into curls. A +red and yellow handkerchief was knotted round the brows, and dangling +sequins added to its barbaric appearance. Nose and lips and eyes, and +contours, were all perfect, and it really seemed as though the face were +idealized, so absolutely did it respond to all canons of beauty. It was +a gypsy countenance, and there lurked in its loveliness that wild, +untamed look which suggested unrestricted roamings and the spacious +freedom of the road. + +The sudden, jealous fear which surged into Miss Greeby's heart climbed +to her throat and choked her speech. But she had wisdom enough to check +unwise words, and glanced round the studio to recover her composure. The +room was small and barely furnished; a couch, two deep arm-chairs, and a +small table filled its limited area. The walls and roof were painted a +pale green, and a carpet of the same delicate hue covered the floor. Of +course, there were the usual painting materials, brushes and easel and +palettes and tubes of color, together with a slightly raised platform +near the one window where the model could sit or stand. The window +itself had no curtains and was filled with plain glass, affording plenty +of light. + +"The other windows of the cottage are latticed," said Lambert, seeing +his visitor's eyes wander in that direction. "I had that glass put in +when I came here a month ago. No light can filter through lattices--in +sufficient quantity that is--to see the true tones of the colors." + +"Oh, bother the window!" muttered Miss Greeby restlessly, for she had +not yet gained command of her emotions. + +Lambert laughed and looked at his picture with his head on one side, and +a very handsome head it was, as Miss Greeby thought. "It bothered me +until I had it put right, I assure you. But you don't seem pleased with +my crib." + +"It's not good enough for you." + +"Since when have I been a sybarite, Clara?" + +"I mean you ought to think of your position." + +"It's too unpleasant to think about," rejoined Lambert, throwing himself +on the couch and producing his pipe. "May I smoke?" + +"Yes, and if you have any decent cigarettes I'll join you. Thanks!" She +deftly caught the silver case he threw her. "But your position?" + +"Five hundred a year and no occupation, since I have been brought up to +neither trade nor profession," said Lambert leisurely. "Well?" + +"You are the heir to a title and to a large property." + +"Which is heavily mortgaged. As to the title"--Lambert shrugged his +shoulders--"Garvington's wife may have children." + +"I don't think so. They have been married ten years and more. You are +certain to come in for everything." + +"Everything consists of nothing," said the artist coolly. + +"Well," drawled Miss Greeby, puffing luxuriously at her cigarette, which +was Turkish and soothing, "nothing may turn into something when these +mortgages are cleared off." + +"Who is going to clear them off?" + +"Sir Hubert Pine." + +Lambert's brows contracted, as she knew they would when this name was +mentioned, and he carefully attended to filling his pipe so as to avoid +meeting her hard, inquisitive eyes. "Pine is a man of business, and if +he pays off the mortgages he will take over the property as security. I +don't see that Garvington will be any the better off in that case." + +"Lambert," said Miss Greeby very decidedly, and determined to know +precisely what he felt like, "Garvington only allowed his sister to +marry Sir Hubert because he was rich. I don't know for certain, of +course, but I should think it probable that he made an arrangement with +Pine to have things put straight because of the marriage." + +"Possible and probable," said the artist shortly, and wincing; "but old +friend as you are, Clara, I don't see the necessity of talking about +business which does not concern me. Speak to Garvington." + +"Agnes concerns you." + +"How objectionably direct you are," exclaimed Lambert in a vexed tone. +"And how utterly wrong. Agnes does not concern me in the least. I loved +her, but as she chose to marry Pine, why there's no more to be said." + +"If there was nothing more to be said," observed Miss Greeby shrewdly, +"you would not be burying yourself here." + +"Why not? I am fond of nature and art, and my income is not enough to +permit my living decently in London. I had to leave the army because I +was so poor. Garvington has given me this cottage rent free, so I'm +jolly enough with my painting and with Mrs. Tribb as housekeeper and +cook. She's a perfect dream of a cook," ended Lambert thoughtfully. + +Miss Greeby shook her red head. "You can't deceive me." + +"Who wants to, anyhow?" demanded the man, unconsciously American. + +"You do. You wish to make out that you prefer to camp here instead of +admitting that you would like to be at The Manor because Agnes--" + +Lambert jumped up crossly. "Oh, leave Agnes out of the question. She is +Pine's wife, so that settles things. It's no use crying for the moon, +and--" + +"Then you still wish for the moon," interpolated the woman quickly. + +"Not even you have the right to ask me such a question," replied Lambert +in a quiet and decisive tone. "Let us change the subject." + +Miss Greeby pointed to the beautiful face smiling on the easel. "I +advise you to," she said significantly. + +"You seem to have come here to give me good advice." + +"Which you won't take," she retorted. + +"Because it isn't needed." + +"A man's a man and a woman's a woman." + +"That's as true as taxes, as Mr. Barkis observed, if you are acquainted +with the writings of the late Charles Dickens. Well?" + +Again Miss Greeby pointed to the picture. "She's very pretty." + +"I shouldn't have painted her otherwise." + +"Oh, then the original of that portrait does exist?" + +"Could you call it a portrait if an original didn't exist?" demanded +the young man tartly. "Since you want to know so much, you may as well +come to the gypsy encampment on the verge of the wood and satisfy +yourself." He threw on a Panama hat, with a cross look. "Since when have +you come to the conclusion that I need a dry nurse?" + +"Oh, don't talk bosh!" said Miss Greeby vigorously, and springing to her +feet. "You take me at the foot of the letter and too seriously. I only +came here to see how my old pal was getting on." + +"I'm all right and as jolly as a sandboy. Now are you satisfied?" + +"Quite. Only don't fall in love with the original of your portrait." + +"It's rather late in the day to warn me," said Lambert dryly, "for I +have known the girl for six months. I met her in a gypsy caravan when on +a walking tour, and offered to paint her. She is down here with her +people, and you can see her whenever you have a mind to." + +"There's no time like the present," said Miss Greeby, accepting the +offer with alacrity. "Come along, old boy." Then, when they stepped out +of the cottage garden on to the lawns, she asked pointedly, "What is her +name?" + +"Chaldea." + +"Nonsense. That is the name of the country." + +"I never denied that, my dear girl. But Chaldea was born in the country +whence she takes her name. Down Mesopotamia way, I believe. These +gypsies wander far and wide, you know. She's very pretty, and has the +temper of the foul fiend himself. Only Kara can keep her in order." + +"Who is Kara?" + +"A Servian gypsy who plays the fiddle like an angel. He's a +crooked-backed, black-faced, hairy ape of a dwarf, but highly popular on +account of his music. Also, he's crazy about Chaldea, and loves her to +distraction." + +"Does she love him?" Miss Greeby asked in her direct fashion. + +"No," replied Lambert, coloring under his tan, and closed his lips +firmly. He was a very presentable figure of a man, as he walked beside +the unusually tall woman. His face was undeniably handsome in a fair +Saxon fashion, and his eyes were as blue as those of Miss Greeby +herself, while his complexion was much more delicate. In fact, she +considered that it was much too good a complexion for one of the male +sex, but admitted inwardly that its possessor was anything but +effeminate, when he had such a heavy jaw, such a firm chin, and such set +lips. Lambert, indeed, at first sight did indeed look so amiable, as to +appear for the moment quite weak; but danger always stiffened him into a +dangerous adversary, and his face when aroused was most unpleasantly +fierce. He walked with a military swing, his shoulders well set back and +his head crested like that of a striking serpent. A rough and warlike +life would have brought out his best points of endurance, capability to +plan and strike quickly, and iron decision; but the want of opportunity +and the enervating influences of civilized existence, made him a man of +possibilities. When time, and place, and chance offered he could act the +hero with the best; but lacking these things he remained innocuous like +gunpowder which has no spark to fire it. + +Thinking of these things, Miss Greeby abandoned the subject of Chaldea, +and of her possible love for Lambert, and exclaimed impulsively, "Why +don't you chuck civilization and strike the out-trail?" + +"Why should I?" he asked, unmoved, and rather surprised by the change of +the subject. "I'm quite comfortable here." + +"Too comfortable," she retorted with emphasis. "This loafing life of +just-enough-to-live-on doesn't give you a chance to play the man. Go out +and fight and colonize and prove your qualities." + +Lambert's color rose again, and his eyes sparkled. "I would if the +chance--" + +"Ah, bah, Hercules and Omphale!" interrupted his companion. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Never mind," retorted Miss Greeby, who guessed that he knew what she +meant very well. His quick flush showed her how he resented this +classical allusion to Agnes Pine. "You'd carry her off if you were a +man." + +"Chaldea?" asked Lambert, wilfully misunderstanding her meaning. + +"If you like. Only don't try to carry her off at night. Garvington says +he will shoot any burglar who comes along after dark." + +"I never knew Garvington had anything to do with Chaldea." + +"Neither did I. Oh, I think you know very well what I mean." + +"Perhaps I do," said the young man with an angry shrug, for really her +interference with his affairs seemed to be quite unjustifiable. "But I +am not going to bring a woman I respect into the Divorce Court." + +"Respect? Love, you mean to say." + +Lambert stopped, and faced her squarely. "I don't wish to quarrel with +you, Clara, as we are very old friends. But I warn you that I do possess +a temper, and if you wish to see it, you are going the best way to get +what you evidently want. Now, hold your tongue and talk of something +else. Here is Chaldea." + +"Watching for you," muttered Miss Greeby, as the slight figure of the +gypsy girl was seen advancing swiftly. "Ha!" and she snorted +suspiciously. + +"Rye!" cried Chaldea, dancing toward the artist. "Sarishan rye." + +Miss Greeby didn't understand Romany, but the look in the girl's eyes +was enough to reveal the truth. If Lambert did not love his beautiful +model, it was perfectly plain that the beautiful model loved Lambert. + +"O baro duvel atch' pa leste!" said Chaldea, and clapped her slim hands. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION. + + +"I wish you wouldn't speak the calo jib to me, Chaldea," said Lambert, +smiling on the beautiful eager face. "You know I don't understand it." + +"Nor I," put in Miss Greeby in her manly tones. "What does Oh baro devil, +and all the rest of it mean?" + +"The Great God be with you," translated Chaldea swiftly, "and duvel is +not devil as you Gorgios call it." + +"Only the difference of a letter," replied the Gentile lady +good-humoredly. "Show us round your camp, my good girl." + +The mere fact that the speaker was in Lambert's company, let alone the +offensively patronizing tone in which she spoke, was enough to rouse the +gypsy girl's naturally hot temper. She retreated and swayed like a cat +making ready to spring, while her black eyes snapped fire in a most +unpleasant manner. + +But Miss Greeby was not to be frightened by withering glances, and +merely laughed aloud, showing her white teeth. Her rough merriment and +masculine looks showed Chaldea that, as a rival, she was not to be +feared, so the angry expression on the dark face changed to a wheedling +smile. + +"Avali! Avali! The Gorgios lady wants her fortune told." + +For the sake of diplomacy Miss Greeby nodded and fished in her pocket. +"I'll give you half a crown to tell it." + +"Not me--not me, dear lady. Mother Cockleshell is our great witch." + +"Take me to her then," replied the other, and rapidly gathered into her +brain all she could of Chaldea's appearance. + +Lambert had painted a very true picture of the girl, although to a +certain extent he had idealized her reckless beauty. Chaldea's looks had +been damaged and roughened by wind and rain, by long tramps, and by +glaring sunshine. Yet she was superlatively handsome with her warm and +swarthy skin, under which the scarlet blood circled freely. To an oval +face, a slightly hooked nose and two vermilion lips, rather full, she +added the glossy black eyes of the true Romany, peaked at the corners. +Her jetty hair descended smoothly from under a red handkerchief down to +her shoulders, and there, at the tips, became tangled and curling. Her +figure was magnificent, and she swayed and swung from the hips with an +easy grace, which reminded the onlookers of a panther's lithe movements. +And there was a good deal of the dangerous beast-of-prey beauty about +Chaldea, which was enhanced by her picturesque dress. This was ragged +and patched with all kinds of colored cloths subdued to mellow tints by +wear and weather. Also she jingled with coins and beads and barbaric +trinkets of all kinds. Her hands were perfectly formed, and so doubtless +were her feet, although these last were hidden by heavy laced-up boots. +On the whole, she was an extremely picturesque figure, quite comforting +to the artistic eye amidst the drab sameness of latterday civilization. + +"All the same, I suspect she is a sleeping volcano," whispered Miss +Greeby in her companion's ear as they followed the girl through the camp. + +"Scarcely sleeping," answered Lambert in the same tone. "She explodes on +the slightest provocation, and not without damaging results." + +"Well, you ought to know. But if you play with volcanic fire you'll burn +more than your clever fingers." + +"Pooh! The girl is only a model." + +"Ha! Not much of the lay figure about her, anyway." + +Lambert, according to his custom, shrugged his shoulders and did not +seek to explain further. If Miss Greeby chose to turn her fancies into +facts, she was at liberty to do so. Besides, her attention was luckily +attracted by the vivid life of the vagrants which hummed and bustled +everywhere. The tribe was a comparatively large one, and--as Miss Greeby +learned later--consisted of Lees, Loves, Bucklands, Hernes, and others, +all mixed up together in one gypsy stew. The assemblage embraced many +clans, and not only were there pure gypsies, but even many diddikai, or +half-bloods, to be seen. Perhaps the gradually diminishing Romany clans +found it better to band together for mutual benefit than to remain +isolated units. But the camp certainly contained many elements, and +these, acting co-operatively, formed a large and somewhat reckless +community, which justified Garvington's alarm. A raid in the night by +one or two, or three, or more of these lean, wiry, dangerous-looking +outcasts was not to be despised. But it must be admitted that, in a +general way, law and order prevailed in the encampment. + +There were many caravans, painted in gay colors and hung round with +various goods, such as brushes and brooms, goat-skin rugs, and much +tinware, together with baskets of all sorts and sizes. The horses, which +drew these rainbow-hued vehicles, were pasturing on the outskirts of the +camp, hobbled for the most part. Interspersed among the travelling homes +stood tents great and small, wherein the genuine Romany had their abode, +but the autumn weather was so fine that most of the inmates preferred to +sleep in the moonshine. Of course, there were plenty of dogs quarrelling +over bones near various fires, or sleeping with one eye open in odd +corners, and everywhere tumbled and laughed and danced, brown-faced, +lithe-limbed children, who looked uncannily Eastern. And the men, +showing their white teeth in smiles, together with the fawning women, +young and handsome, or old and hideously ugly, seemed altogether alien +to the quiet, tame domestic English landscape. There was something +prehistoric about the scene, and everywhere lurked that sense of +dangerous primeval passions held in enforced check which might burst +forth on the very slightest provocation. + +"It's a migrating tribe of Aryans driven to new hunting grounds by +hunger or over-population," said Miss Greeby, for even her unromantic +nature was stirred by the unusual picturesqueness of the scene. "The +sight of these people and the reek of their fires make me feel like a +cave-woman. There is something magnificent about this brutal freedom." + +"Very sordid magnificence," replied Lambert, raising his shoulders. "But +I understand your feelings. On occasions we all have the nostalgia of +the primitive life at times, and delight to pass from ease to hardship." + +"Well, civilization isn't much catch, so far as I can see," argued his +companion. "It makes men weaklings." + +"Certainly not women," he answered, glancing sideways at her Amazonian +figure. + +"I agree with you. For some reason, men are going down while women are +going up, both physically and mentally. I wonder what the future of +civilized races will be." + +"Here is Mother Cockleshell. Best ask her." + +The trio had reached a small tent at the very end of the camp by this +time, snugly set up under a spreading oak and near the banks of a +babbling brook. Their progress had not been interrupted by any claims on +their attention or purses, for a wink from Chaldea had informed her +brother and sister gypsies that the Gentile lady had come to consult the +queen of the tribe. And, like Lord Burleigh's celebrated nod, Chaldea's +wink could convey volumes. At all events, Lambert and his companion were +unmolested, and arrived in due course before the royal palace. A +croaking voice announced that the queen was inside her Arab tent, and +she was crooning some Romany song. Chaldea did not open her mouth, but +simply snapped her fingers twice or thrice rapidly. The woman within +must have had marvellously sharp ears, for she immediately stopped her +incantation--the songs sounded like one--and stepped forth. + +"Oh!" said Miss Greeby, stepping back, "I am disappointed." + +She had every reason to be after the picturesqueness of the camp in +general, and Chaldea in particular, for Mother Cockleshell looked like a +threadbare pew-opener, or an almshouse widow who had seen better days. +Apparently she was very old, for her figure had shrivelled up into a +diminutive monkey form, and she looked as though a moderately high wind +could blow her about like a feather. Her face was brown and puckered and +lined in a most wonderful fashion. Where a wrinkle could be, there a +wrinkle was, and her nose and chin were of the true nutcracker order, as +a witch's should be. Only her eyes betrayed the powerful vitality that +still animated the tiny frame, for these were large and dark, and had in +them a piercing look which seemed to gaze not at any one, but through +and beyond. Her figure, dried like that of a mummy, was surprisingly +straight for one of her ancient years, and her profuse hair was scarcely +touched with the gray of age. Arrayed in a decent black dress, with a +decent black bonnet and a black woollen shawl, the old lady looked +intensely respectable. There was nothing of the picturesque vagrant +about her. Therefore Miss Greeby, and with every reason, was +disappointed, and when the queen of the woodland spoke she was still +more so, for Mother Cockleshell did not even interlard her English +speech with Romany words, as did Chaldea. + +"Good day to you, my lady, and to you, sir," said Mother Cockleshell in +a stronger and harsher voice than would have been expected from one of +her age and diminished stature. "I hope I sees you well," and she +dropped a curtsey, just like any village dame who knew her manners. + +"Oh!" cried Miss Greeby again. "You don't look a bit like a gypsy queen." + +"Ah, my lady, looks ain't everything. But I'm a true-bred Romany--a +Stanley of Devonshire. Gentilla is my name and the tent my home, and I +can tell fortunes as no one else on the road can." + +"Avali, and that is true," put in Chaldea eagerly. "Gentilla's a bori +chovihani." + +"The child means that I am a great witch, my lady," said the old dame +with another curtsey. "Though she's foolish to use Romany words to +Gentiles as don't understand the tongue which the dear Lord spoke in +Eden's garden, as the good Book tells us." + +"In what part of the Bible do you find that?" asked Lambert laughing. + +"Oh, my sweet gentleman, it ain't for the likes of me to say things to +the likes of you," said Mother Cockleshell, getting out of her +difficulty very cleverly, "but the dear lady wants her fortune told, +don't she?" + +"Why don't you say dukkerin?" + +"I don't like them wicked words, sir," answered Mother Cockleshell +piously. + +"Wicked words," muttered Chaldea tossing her black locks. "And them true +Romany as was your milk tongue. No wonder the Gentiles don't fancy you a +true one of the road. If I were queen of--" + +A vicious little devil flashed out of the old woman's eyes, and her +respectable looks changed on the instant. "Tol yer chib, or I'll heat +the bones of you with the fires of Bongo Tem," she screamed furiously, +and in a mixture of her mother-tongue and English. "Ja pukenus, slut of +the gutter," she shook her fist, and Chaldea, with an insulting laugh, +moved away. "Bengis your see! Bengis your see! And that, my generous +lady," she added, turning round with a sudden resumption of her fawning +respectability, "means 'the devil in your heart,' which I spoke +witchly-like to the child. Ah, but she's a bad one." + +Miss Greeby laughed outright. "This is more like the real thing." + +"Poor Chaldea," said Lambert. "You're too hard on her, mother." + +"And you, my sweet gentleman, ain't hard enough. She'll sell you, and +get Kara to put the knife between your ribs." + +"Why should he? I'm not in love with the girl." + +"The tree don't care for the ivy, but the ivy loves the tree," said +Mother Cockleshell darkly. "You're a good and kind gentleman, and I +don't want to see that slut pick your bones." + +"So I think," whispered Miss Greeby in his ear. "You play with fire." + +"Aye, my good lady," said Mother Cockleshell, catching the whisper--she +had the hearing of a cat. "With the fire of Bongo Tern, the which you +may call The Crooked Land," and she pointed significantly downward. + +"Hell, do you mean?" asked Miss Greeby in her bluff way. + +"The Crooked Land we Romany calls it," insisted the old woman. "And the +child will go there, for her witchly doings." + +"She's too good-looking to lose as a model, at all events," said +Lambert, hitching his shoulders. "I shall leave you to have your fortune +told, Clara, and follow Chaldea to pacify her." + +As he went toward the centre of the camp, Miss Greeby took a hesitating +step as though to follow him. In her opinion Chaldea was much too +good-looking, let alone clever, for Lambert to deal with alone. Gentilla +Stanley saw the look on the hard face and the softening of the hard eyes +as the cheeks grew rosy red. From this emotion she drew her conclusions, +and she chuckled to think of how true a fortune she could tell the +visitor on these premises. Mother Cockleshell's fortune-telling was not +entirely fraudulent, but when her clairvoyance was not in working order +she made use of character-reading with good results. + +"Won't the Gorgios lady have her fortune told?" she asked in wheedling +tones. "Cross Mother Cockleshell's hand with silver and she'll tell the +coming years truly." + +"Why do they call you Mother Cockleshell?" demanded Miss Greeby, waiving +the question of fortune-telling for the time being. + +"Bless your wisdom, it was them fishermen at Grimsby who did so. I +walked the beaches for years and told charms and gave witchly spells for +fine weather. Gentilla Stanley am I called, but Mother Cockleshell was +their name for me. But the fortune, my tender Gentile--" + +"I don't want it told," interrupted Miss Greeby abruptly. "I don't +believe in such rubbish." + +"There is rubbish and there is truth," said the ancient gypsy darkly. +"And them as knows can see what's hidden from others." + +"Well, you will have an opportunity this afternoon of making money. Some +fools from The Manor are coming to consult you." + +Mother Cockleshell nodded and grinned to show a set of beautifully +preserved teeth. "I know The Manor," said she, rubbing her slim hands. +"And Lord Garvington, with his pretty sister." + +"Lady Agnes Pine?" asked Miss Greeby. "How do you know, her?" + +"I've been in these parts before, my gentle lady, and she was good to me +in a sick way. I would have died in the hard winter if she hadn't fed me +and nursed me, so to speak. I shall love to see her again. To dick a +puro pal is as commoben as a aushti habben, the which, my precious +angel, is true Romany for the Gentile saying, 'To see an old friend is +as good as a fine dinner.' Avali! Avali!" she nodded smilingly. "I shall +be glad to see her, though here I use Romany words to you as doesn't +understand the lingo." + +Miss Greeby was not at all pleased to hear Lady Agnes praised; as, +knowing that Lambert had loved her, and probably loved her still, she +was jealous enough to wish her all possible harm. However, it was not +diplomatic to reveal her true feelings to Mother Cockleshell, lest the +old gypsy should repeat her words to Lady Agnes, so she turned the +conversation by pointing to a snow-white cat of great size, who stepped +daintily out of the tent. "I should think, as a witch, your cat ought to +be black," said Miss Greeby. Mother Cockleshell screeched like a +night-owl and hastily pattered some gypsy spell to avert evil. "Why, the +old devil is black," she cried. "And why should I have him in my house +to work evil? This is my white ghost." Her words were accompanied by a +gentle stroking of the cat. "And good is what she brings to my +roof-tree. But I don't eat from white dishes, or drink from white mugs. +No! No! That would be too witchly." + +Miss Greeby mused. "I have heard something about these gypsy +superstitions before," she remarked meditatively. + +"Avo! Avo! They are in a book written by a great Romany Rye. Leland is +the name of that rye, a gypsy Lee with Gentile land. He added land to +the lea as he was told by one of our people. Such a nice gentleman, +kind, and free of his money and clever beyond tellings, as I always +says. Many a time has he sat pal-like with me, and 'Gentilla,' says he, +'your're a bori chovihani'; and that, my generous lady, is the gentle +language for a great witch." + +"Chaldea said that you were that," observed Miss Greeby carelessly. + +"The child speaks truly. Come, cross my hand, sweet lady." + +Miss Greeby passed along half a crown. "I only desire to know one +thing," she said, offering her palm. "Shall I get my wish?" + +Mother Cockleshell peered into the hands, although she had already made +up her mind what to say. Her faculties, sharpened by years of chicanery, +told her from the look which Miss Greeby had given when Lambert followed +Chaldea, that a desire to marry the man was the wish in question. And +seeing how indifferent Lambert was in the presence of the tall lady, +Mother Cockleshell had no difficulty in adjusting the situation in her +own artful mind. "No, my lady," she said, casting away the hand with +quite a dramatic gesture. "You will never gain your wish." + +Miss Greeby looked angry. "Bah! Your fortune-telling is all rubbish, as +I have always thought," and she moved away. + +"Tell me that in six months," screamed the old woman after her. + +"Why six months?" demanded the other, pausing. + +"Ah, that's a dark saying," scoffed the gypsy. "Call it seven, my +hopeful-for-what-you-won't-get, like the cat after the cream, for +seven's a sacred number, and the spell is set." + +"Gypsy jargon, gypsy lies," muttered Miss Greeby, tossing her ruddy +mane. "I don't believe a word. Tell me--" + +"There's no time to say more," interrupted Mother Cockleshell rudely, +for, having secured her money, she did not think it worth while to be +polite, especially in the face of her visitor's scepticism. "One of our +tribe--aye, and he's a great Romany for sure--is coming to camp with us. +Each minute he may come, and I go to get ready a stew of hedgehog, for +Gentile words I must use to you, who are a Gorgio. And so good day to +you, my lady," ended the old hag, again becoming the truly respectable +pew-opener. Then she dropped a curtsey--whether ironical or not, Miss +Greeby could not tell--and disappeared into the tent, followed by the +white cat, who haunted her footsteps like the ghost she declared it to +be. + +Clearly there was nothing more to be learned from Mother Cockleshell, +who, in the face of her visitor's doubts, had become hostile, so Miss +Greeby, dismissing the whole episode as over and done with, turned her +attention toward finding Lambert. With her bludgeon under her arm and +her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she stalked through the camp in +quite a masculine fashion, not vouchsafing a single reply to the +greetings which the gypsies gave her. Shortly she saw the artist +chatting with Chaldea at the beginning of the path which led to his +cottage. Beside them, on the grass, squatted a queer figure. + +It was that of a little man, very much under-sized, with a hunch back +and a large, dark, melancholy face covered profusely with black hair. He +wore corduroy trousers and clumsy boots--his feet and hands were +enormous--together with a green coat and a red handkerchief which was +carelessly twisted round his hairy throat. On his tangled +locks--distressingly shaggy and unkempt--he wore no hat, and he looked +like a brownie, grotesque, though somewhat sad. But even more did he +resemble an ape--or say the missing link--and only his eyes seemed +human. These were large, dark and brilliant, sparkling like jewels under +his elf-locks. He sat cross-legged on the sward and hugged a fiddle, as +though he were nursing a baby. And, no doubt, he was as attached to his +instrument as any mother could be to her child. It was not difficult for +Miss Greeby to guess that this weird, hairy dwarf was the Servian gypsy +Kara, of whom Lambert had spoken. She took advantage of the knowledge to +be disagreeable to the girl. + +"Is this your husband?" asked Miss Greeby amiably. + +Chaldea's eyes flashed and her cheeks grew crimson. "Not at all," she +said contemptuously. "I have no rom." + +"Ah, your are not married?" + +"No," declared Chaldea curtly, and shot a swift glance at Lambert. + +"She is waiting for the fairy prince," said that young gentleman +smiling. "And he is coming to this camp almost immediately." + +"Ishmael Hearne is coming," replied the gypsy. "But he is no rom of +mine, and never will be." + +"Who is he, then?" asked Lambert carelessly. + +"One of the great Romany." + +Miss Greeby remembered that Mother Cockleshell had also spoken of the +expected arrival at the camp in these terms. "A kind of king?" she +asked. + +Chaldea laughed satirically. "Yes; a kind of king," she assented; then +turned her back rudely on the speaker and addressed Lambert: "I can't +come, rye. Ishmael will want to see me. I must wait." + +"What a nuisance," said Lambert, looking annoyed. "Fancy, Clara. I have +an idea of painting these two as Beauty and the Beast, or perhaps as +Esmeralda and Quasimodo. I want them to come to the cottage and sit now, +but they will wait for this confounded Ishmael." + +"We can come to-morrow," put in Chaldea quickly. "This afternoon I must +dance for Ishmael, and Kara must play." + +"Ishmael will meet with a fine reception," said Miss Greeby, and then, +anxious to have a private conversation with Chaldea so as to disabuse +her mind of any idea she may have entertained of marrying Lambert, she +added, "I think I shall stay and see him." + +"In that case, I shall return to my cottage," replied Lambert, +sauntering up the pathway, which was strewn with withered leaves. + +"When are you coming to The Manor?" called Miss Greeby after him. + +"Never! I am too busy," he replied over his shoulder and disappeared +into the wood. This departure may seem discourteous, but then Miss +Greeby liked to be treated like a comrade and without ceremony. That +is, she liked it so far as other men were concerned, but not as regards +Lambert. She loved him too much to approve of his careless leave-taking, +and therefore she frowned darkly, as she turned her attention to +Chaldea. + +The girl saw that Miss Greeby was annoyed, and guessed the cause of her +annoyance. The idea that this red-haired and gaunt woman should love the +handsome Gorgio was so ludicrous in Chaldea's eyes that she laughed in +an ironical fashion. Miss Greeby turned on her sharply, but before she +could speak there was a sound of many voices raised in welcome. +"Sarishan pal! Sarishan ba!" cried the voices, and Chaldea started. + +"Ishmael!" she said, and ran toward the camp, followed leisurely by +Kara. + +Anxious to see the great Romany, whose arrival caused all this +commotion, Miss Greeby plunged into the crowd of excited vagrants. These +surrounded a black horse, on which sat a slim, dark-faced man of the +true Romany breed. Miss Greeby stared at him and blinked her eyes, as +though she could not believe what they beheld, while the man waved his +hand and responded to the many greetings in gypsy language. His eyes +finally met her own as she stood on the outskirts of the crowd, and he +started. Then she knew. "Sir Hubert Pine," said Miss Greeby, still +staring. "Sir Hubert Pine!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SECRETS. + + +The scouting crowd apparently did not catch the name, so busy were one +and all in welcoming the newcomer. But the man on the horse saw Miss +Greeby's startled look, and noticed that her lips were moving. In a +moment he threw himself off the animal and elbowed his way roughly +through the throng. + +"Sir Hubert," began Miss Greeby, only to be cut short hastily. + +"Don't give me away," interrupted Pine, who here was known as Ishmael +Hearne. "Wait till I settle things, and then we can converse privately." + +"All right," answered the lady, nodding, and gripped her bludgeon +crosswise behind her back with two hands. She was so surprised at the +sight of the millionaire in the wood, that she could scarcely speak. + +Satisfied that she grasped the situation, Pine turned to his friends and +spoke at length in fluent Romany. He informed them that he had some +business to transact with the Gentile lady who had come to the camp for +that purpose, and would leave them for half an hour. The man evidently +was such a favorite that black looks were cast on Miss Greeby for +depriving the Romany of his society. But Pine paid no attention to these +signs of discontent. He finished his speech, and then pushed his way +again toward the lady who, awkwardly for him, was acquainted with his +true position as a millionaire. In a hurried whisper he asked Miss +Greeby to follow him, and led the way into the heart of the wood. +Apparently he knew it very well, and knew also where to seek solitude +for the private conversation he desired, for he skirted the central +glade where Lambert's cottage was placed, and finally guided his +companion to a secluded dell, far removed from the camp of his brethren. +Here he sat down on a mossy stone, and stared with piercing black eyes +at Miss Greeby. + +"What are you doing here?" he demanded imperiously. + +"Just the question I was about to put to you," said Miss Greeby amiably. +She could afford to be amiable, for she felt that she was the mistress +of the situation. Pine evidently saw this, for he frowned. + +"You must have guessed long ago that I was a gypsy," he snapped +restlessly. + +"Indeed I didn't, nor, I should think, did any one else. I thought you +had nigger blood in you, and I have heard people say that you came from +the West Indies. But what does it matter if you are a gypsy? There is no +disgrace in being one." + +"No disgrace, certainly," rejoined the millionaire, leaning forward and +linking his hands together, while he stared at the ground. "I am proud +of having the gentle Romany blood. All the same I prefer the West Indian +legend, for I don't want any of my civilized friends to know that I am +Ishmael Hearne, born and bred in a tent." + +"Well, that's natural, Pine. What would Garvington say?" + +"Oh, curse Garvington!" + +"Curse the whole family by all means," retorted Miss Greeby coolly. + +Pine looked up savagely, "I except my wife." + +"Naturally. You always were uxorious." + +"Perhaps," said Pine gloomily, "I'm a fool where Agnes is concerned." + +Miss Greeby quite agreed with this statement, but did not think it worth +while to indorse so obvious a remark. She sat down in her turn, and +taking Lambert's cigarette case, which she had retained by accident, out +of her pocket, she prepared to smoke. The two were entirely alone in the +fairy dell, and the trees which girdled it were glorious with vivid +autumnal tints. A gentle breeze sighing through the wood, shook down +yew, crisp leaves on the woman's head, so that she looked like Danae in +a shower of gold. Pine gazed heavily at the ground and coughed +violently. Miss Greeby knew that cough, and a medical friend of hers +had told her several times that Sir Hubert was a very consumptive +individual. He certainly looked ill, and apparently had not long to +live. And if he died, Lady Agnes, inheriting his wealth, would be more +desirable as a wife than ever. And Miss Greeby, guessing whose wife she +would be, swore inwardly that the present husband should look so +delicate. But she showed no sign of her perturbations, but lighted her +cigarette with a steady hand and smoked quietly. She always prided +herself on her nerve. + +The millionaire was tall and lean, with a sinewy frame, and an oval, +olive-complexioned face. It was clean-shaven, and with his aquiline +nose, his thin lips, and brilliant black eyes, which resembled those of +Kara, he looked like a long-descended Hindoo prince. The Eastern blood +of the Romany showed in his narrow feet and slim brown hands, and there +was a wild roving look about him, which Miss Greeby had not perceived in +London. + +"I suppose it's the dress," she said aloud, and eyed Pine critically. + +"What do you say, Miss Greeby?" he asked, looking up in a sharp, +startled manner, and again coughing in a markedly consumptive way. + +"The cowl makes the monk in your case," replied the woman quietly. "Your +corduroy breeches and velveteen coat, with that colored shirt, and the +yellow handkerchief round your neck, seem to suit you better than did +the frock coats and evening dress I have seen you in. You did look like +a nigger of sorts when in those clothes; now I can tell you are a gypsy +with half an eye." + +"That is because you heard me called Ishmael and saw me among my kith +and kin," said the man with a tired smile. "Don't tell Agnes." + +"Why should I? It's none of my business if you chose to masquerade as a +gypsy." + +"I masquerade as Sir Hubert Pine," retorted the millionaire, slipping +off the stone to sprawl full-length on the grass. "I am truly and really +one of the lot in the camp yonder." + +"Do they know you by your Gentile name?" + +Pine laughed. "You are picking up the gypsy lingo, Miss Greeby. No. +Every one on the road takes me for what I am, Ishmael Hearne, and my +friends in the civilized world think I am Sir Hubert Pine, a millionaire +with colored blood in his veins." + +"How do you come to have a double personality and live a double life?" + +"Oh, that is easily explained, and since you have found me out it is +just as well that I should explain, so that you may keep my secret, at +all events from my wife, as she would be horrified to think that she had +married a gypsy. You promise?" + +"Of course. I shall say nothing. But perhaps she would prefer to know +that she had married a gypsy rather than a nigger." + +"What polite things you say," said Pine sarcastically. "However, I can't +afford to quarrel with you. As you are rich, I can't even bribe you to +silence, so I must rely on your honor." + +"Oh, I have some," Miss Greeby assured him lightly. + +"When it suits you," he retorted doubtfully. + +"It does on this occasion." + +"Why?" + +"I'll tell you that when you have related your story." + +"There is really none to tell. I was born and brought up on the road, +and thinking I was wasting my life I left my people and entered +civilization. In London I worked as a clerk, and being clever I soon +made money. I got hold of a man who invented penny toys, and saw the +possibilities of making a fortune. I really didn't, but I collected +enough money to dabble in stocks and shares. The South African boom was +on, and I made a thousand. Other speculations created more than a +million out of my thousand, and now I have over two millions, honestly +made." + +"Honestly?" queried Miss Greeby significantly. + +"Yes; I assure you, honestly. We gypsies are cleverer than you Gentiles, +and we have the same money-making faculties as the Jews have. If my +people were not so fond of the vagrant life they would soon become a +power in the money markets of the world. But, save in the case of +myself, we leave all such grubbing to the Jews. I did grub, and my +reward is that I have accumulated a fortune in a remarkably short space +of time. I have land and houses, and excellent investments, and a title, +which," he added sarcastically, "a grateful Government bestowed on me +for using my money properly." + +"You bought the title by helping the political party you belonged to," +said Miss Greeby with a shrug. "There was quite a talk about it." + +"So there was. As if I cared for talk. However, that is my story." + +"Not all of it. You are supposed to be in Paris, and--" + +"And you find me here," interrupted Pine with a faint smile. "Well you +see, being a gypsy, I can't always endure that under-the-roof life you +Gentiles live. I must have a spell of the open road occasionally. And, +moreover, as my doctor tells me that I have phthisis, and that I should +live as much as possible in the open air, I kill two birds with one +stone, as the saying is. My health benefits by my taking up the old +Romany wandering, and I gratify my nostalgia for the tent and the wild. +You understand, you und--" His speech was interrupted by a fresh fit of +coughing. + +"It doesn't seem to do you much good this gypsying," said Miss Greeby +with a swift look, for his life was of importance to her plans. "You +look pretty rocky I can tell you, Pine. And if you die your wife will be +free to--" The man sat up and took away from his mouth a handkerchief +spotted with blood. His eyes glittered, and he showed his white teeth. +"My wife will be free to what?" he demanded viciously, and the same +devil that had lurked in Mother Cockleshell's eye, now showed +conspicuously in his. + +Miss Greeby had no pity on his manifest distress and visible wrath, but +answered obliquely: "You know that she was almost engaged to her cousin +before you married her," she hinted pointedly. + +"Yes, I know, d---- him," said Pine with a groan, and rolled over to +clutch at the grass in a vicious manner. "But he's not at The Manor now?" + +"No." + +"Agnes doesn't speak of him?" + +"No." + +Pine drew a deep breath and rose slowly to his feet, with a satisfied +nod. + +"I'm glad of that. She's a good woman is Agnes, and would never +encourage him in any way. She knows what is due to me. I trust her." + +"Do you? When your secretary is also stopping at The Manor?" + +"Silver!" Pine laughed awkwardly, and kicked at a tuft of moss. "Well I +did ask him to keep an eye on her, although there is really no occasion. +Silver owes me a great deal, since I took him out of the gutter. If +Lambert worried my wife, Silver would let me know, and then--" + +"And then?" asked Miss Greeby hastily. + +The man clenched his fists and his face grew stormy, as his blood +untamed by civilization surged redly to the surface. "I'd twist his +neck, I'd smash his skull, I'd--I'd--I'd--oh, don't ask me what I'd do." + +"I should keep my temper if I were you," Miss Greeby warned him, and +alarmed by the tempest she had provoked. She had no wish for the man she +loved to come into contact with this savage, veneered by civilization. +Yet Lambert was in the neighborhood, and almost within a stone's throw +of the husband who was so jealous of him. "Keep your temper," repeated +Miss Greeby. + +"Is there anything else you would like me to do?" raged Pine fiercely. + +"Yes. Leave this place if you wish to keep the secret of your birth from +your wife. Lady Garvington and Mrs. Belgrove, and a lot of people from +The Manor, are coming to the camp to get their fortunes told. You are +sure to be spotted." + +"I shall keep myself out of sight," said Pine sullenly and suspiciously. + +"Some of your gypsy friends may let the cat out of the bag." + +"Not one of them knows there is a cat in the bag. I am Ishmael Hearne to +them, and nothing else. But I shan't stay here long." + +"I wonder you came at all, seeing that your wife is with her brother." + +"In the daring of my coming lies my safety," said Pine tartly. "I know +what I am doing. As to Lambert, if he thinks to marry my wife when I am +dead he is mistaken." + +"Well, I hope you won't die, for my sake!" + +"Why for your sake?" asked Pine sharply. + +"Because I love Lambert and I want to marry him." + +"Marry him," said the millionaire hoarsely, "and I'll give you thousands +of pounds. Oh! I forgot that you have a large income. But marry him, +marry him, Miss Greeby. I shall help you all I can." + +"I can do without assistance," said the woman coolly. "All I ask you to +do is to refrain from fighting with Lambert." + +"What?" Pine's face became lowering again. "Is he at The Manor? You +said--" + +"I know what I said. He is not at The Manor, but he is stopping in the +cottage a stone's throw from here." + +Pine breathed hard, and again had a spasm of coughing. "What's he doing?" + +"Painting pictures." + +"He has not been near The Manor?" + +"No. And what is more, he told me to-day that he did not intend to go +near the house. I don't think you need be afraid, Pine. Lambert is a man +of honor, and I hope to get him to be my husband." + +"He shall never be my wife's husband," said the millionaire between his +teeth and scowling heavily. "I know that I shan't live to anything like +three score and ten. Your infernal hot-house civilization has killed me. +But if Lambert thinks to marry my widow he shall do so in the face of +Garvington's opposition, and will find Agnes a pauper." + +"What do you mean exactly?" Miss Greeby flung away the stump of her +cigarette and rose to her feet. + +Pine wiped his brow and breathed heavily. "I mean that I have left Agnes +my money, only on condition that she does _not_ marry Lambert. She can +marry any one else she has a mind to. I except her cousin." + +"Because she loves him?" + +"Yes, and because he loves her, d--n him." + +"He doesn't," cried Miss Greeby, lying fluently, and heartily wishing +that her lie could be a truth. "He loves me, and I intend to marry him. +Now you can understand what I meant when I declared that I had honor +enough to keep your secret. Lambert is my honor." + +"Oh, then I believe in your honor," sneered Pine cynically. "It is a +selfish quality in this case, which can only be gratified by preserving +silence. If Agnes knew that I was a true Romany tramp, she might run +away with Lambert, and as you want him to be your husband, it is to your +interest to hold your tongue. Thank you for nothing, Miss Greeby." + +"I tell you Lambert loves me," cried the woman doggedly, trying to +persuade her heart that she spoke truly. "And whether you leave your +money to your wife, or to any one else, makes no manner of difference." + +"I think otherwise," he retorted. "And it is just as well to be on the +safe side. If my widow marries Lambert, she loses my millions, and they +go to--" He checked himself abruptly. "Never mind who gets them. It is a +person in whom you can take no manner of interest." + +Miss Greeby pushed the point of her bludgeon into the spongy ground, and +looked thoughtful. "If Lambert loves Agnes still, which I don't +believe," she observed, after a pause, "he would marry her even if she +hadn't a shilling. Your will excluding him as her second husband is +merely the twisting of a rope of sand, Pine." + +"You forget," said the man quickly, "that I declared also, he would have +to marry her in the face of Garvington's opposition." + +"In what way?" + +"Can't you guess? Garvington only allowed me to marry his sister because +I am a wealthy man. I absolutely bought my wife by helping him, and she +gave herself to me without love to save the family name from disgrace. +She is a good woman, is Agnes, and always places duty before +inclination. Marriage with her pauper cousin meant practically the +social extinction of the Lambert family, and nothing would have remained +but the title. Therefore she married me, and I felt mean at the time in +accepting the sacrifice. But I was so deeply in love with her that I did +so. I love her still, and I am mean enough still to be jealous of this +cousin. She shall never marry him, and I know that Garvington will +appeal to his sister's strong desire to save the family once more; so +that she may not be foolish enough to lose the money. And two millions, +more or less," ended Pine cynically, "is too large a sum to pay for a +second husband." + +"Does Agnes know these conditions?" + +"No. Nor do I intend that she should know. You hold your tongue." + +Miss Greeby pulled on her heavy gloves and nodded. "I told you that I +had some notion of honor. Will you let Lambert know that you are in this +neighborhood?" + +"No. There is no need. I am stopping here only for a time to see a +certain person. Silver will look after Agnes, and is coming to the camp +to report upon what he has observed." + +"Silver then knows that you are Ishmael Hearne?" + +"Yes. He knows all my secrets, and I can trust him thoroughly, since he +owes everything to me." + +Miss Greeby laughed scornfully. "That a man of your age and experience +should believe in gratitude. Well, it's no business of mine. You may be +certain that for my own purpose I shall hold my tongue and shall keep +Lambert from seeking your wife. Not that he loves her," she added +hastily, as Pine's brows again drew together. "But she loves him, and +may use her arts--" + +"Don't you dare to speak of arts in connection with my wife," broke in +the man roughly. "She is no coquette, and I trust her--" + +"So long as Silver looks after her," finished Miss Greeby +contemptuously. "What chivalrous confidence. Well, I must be going. Any +message to your--" + +"No! No! No!" broke in Pine once more. "She is not to know that I am +here, or anything about my true position and name. You promised, and you +will keep your promise. But there, I know that you will, as +self-interest will make you." + +"Ah, now you talk common sense. It is a pity you don't bring it to bear +in the case of Silver, whom you trust because you have benefited him. +Good-day, you very unsophisticated person. I shall see you again--" + +"In London as Hubert Pine," said the millionaire abruptly, and Miss +Greeby, with a good-humored shrug, marched away, swinging her stick and +whistling gayly. She was very well satisfied with the knowledge she had +obtained, as the chances were that it would prove useful should Lambert +still hanker after the unattainable woman. Miss Greeby had lulled Pine's +suspicions regarding the young man's love for Agnes, but she knew in her +heart that she had only done so by telling a pack of miserable lies. +Now, as she walked back to The Manor, she reflected that by using her +secret information dexterously, she might improve such falsehood into +tolerable truth. + +Pine flung himself down again when she departed, and coughed in his +usual violent manner. His throat and lungs ached, and his brow was wet +with perspiration. With his elbows on his knees and his face between his +hands, he sat miserably thinking over his troubles. There was no chance +of his living more than a few years, as the best doctors in Europe and +England had given him up, and when he was placed below ground, the +chances were that Agnes would marry his rival. He had made things as +safe as was possible against such a contingency, but who knew if her +love for Lambert might not make her willing to surrender the millions. +"Unless Garvington can manage to arouse her family pride," groaned Pine +drearily. "She sacrificed herself before for that, and perhaps she will +do so again. But who knows?" And he could find no answer to this +question, since it is impossible for any man to say what a woman will do +where her deepest emotions are concerned. + +A touch on Pine's shoulder made him leap to his feet with the alertness +of a wild animal on the lookout for danger. By his side stood Chaldea, +and her eyes glittered, as she came to the point of explanation without +any preamble. The girl was painfully direct. "I have heard every word," +she said triumphantly. "And I know what you are, brother." + +"Why did you come here?" demanded Pine sharply, and frowning. + +"I wanted to hear what a Romany had to do with a Gorgio lady, brother. +And what do I hear. Why, that you dwell in the Gentile houses, and take +a Gentile name, and cheat in a Gentile manner, and have wed with a +Gentile romi. Speaking Romanly, brother, it is not well." + +"It is as I choose, sister," replied Pine quietly, for since Chaldea had +got the better of him, it was useless to quarrel with her. "And from +what I do good will come to our people." + +Chaldea laughed, and blew from her fingers a feather, carelessly picked +up while in the thicket which had concealed her eavesdropping. "For +that, I care that," said she, pointing to the floating feather slowly +settling. "I looks to myself and to my love, brother." + +"Hey?" Pine raised his eyebrows. + +"It's a Gorgio my heart is set on," pursued Chaldea steadfastly. "A +regular Romany Rye, brother. Do you think Lambert is a good name?" + +"It's the name of the devil, sister," cried Pine hastily. + +"The very devil I love. To me sweet, as to you sour. And speaking +Romanly, brother, I want him to be my rom in the Gentile fashion, as you +have a romi in your Gorgious lady." + +"What will Kara say?" said Pine, and his eyes flashed, for the idea of +getting rid of Lambert in this way appealed to him. The girl was +beautiful, and with her added cleverness she might be able to gain her +ends, and these accomplished, would certainly place a barrier between +Agnes and her cousin, since the woman would never forgive the man for +preferring the girl. + +"Kara plays on the fiddle, but not on my heart-strings," said Chaldea in +a cool manner, and watched Pine wickedly. "You'd better help me, +brother, if you don't want that Gorgious romi of yours to pad the hoof +with the rye." + +The blood rushed to Pine's dark cheeks. "What's that?" + +"No harm to my rye and I tell you, brother. Don't use the knife." + +"That I will not do, if a wedding-ring from him to you will do as well." + +"It will do, brother," said Chaldea calmly. "My rye doesn't love me yet, +but he will, when I get him away from the Gentile lady's spells. They +draw him, brother, they draw him." + +"Where do they draw him to?" demanded Pine, his voice thick with +passion. + +"To the Gorgious house of the baro rai, the brother of your romi. Like +an owl does he go after dusk to watch the nest." + +"Owl," muttered Pine savagely. "Cuckoo, rather. Prove this, my sister, +and I help you to gain the love you desire." + +"It's a bargain, brother"--she held out her hand inquiringly--"but no +knife." + +Pine shook hands. "It's a bargain, sister. Your wedding-ring will part +them as surely as any knife. Tell me more!" And Chaldea in whispers told +him all. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE WOMAN AND THE MAN. + + +Quite unaware that Destiny, that tireless spinner, was weaving sinister +red threads of hate and love into the web of his life, Lambert continued +to live quietly in his woodland retreat. In a somewhat misanthropic +frame of mind he had retired to this hermitage, after the failure of his +love affair, since, lacking the society of Agnes, there was nothing left +for him to desire. From a garden of roses, the world became a sandy +desert, and denied the sole gift of fortune, which would have made him +completely happy, the disconsolate lover foreswore society for solitude. +As some seek religion, so Lambert hoped by seeking Nature's breast to +assuage the pains of his sore heart. But although the great Mother could +do so much, she could not do all, and the young man still felt restless +and weary. Hard work helped him more than a little, but he had his dark +hours during those intervals when hand and brain were too weary to +create pictures. + +In one way he blamed Agnes, because she had married for money; in +another way he did not blame her, because that same money had been +necessary to support the falling fortunes of the noble family to which +Lambert belonged. An ordinary person would not have understood this, and +would have seen in the mercenary marriage simply a greedy grasping after +the loaves and fishes. But Lambert, coming at the end of a long line of +lordly ancestors, considered that both he and his cousin owed something +to those of the past who had built up the family. Thus his pride told +him that Agnes had acted rightly in taking Pine as her husband, while +his love cried aloud that the sacrifice was too hard upon their +individual selves. He was a Lambert, but he was also a human being, and +the two emotions of love and pride strove mightily against one another. +Although quite three years had elapsed since the victim had been offered +at the altar--and a willing victim to the family fetish--the struggle +was still going on. And because of its stress and strain, Lambert +withdrew from society, so that he might see as little as possible of the +woman he loved. They had met, they had talked, they had looked, in a +conventionally light-hearted way, but both were relieved when +circumstances parted them. The strain was too great. + +Pine arranged the circumstances, for hearing here, there, and +everywhere, that his wife had been practically engaged to her cousin +before he became her husband, he looked with jealous eyes upon their +chance meetings. Neither to Agnes nor Lambert did he say a single word, +since he had no reason to utter it, so scrupulously correct was their +behavior, but his eyes were sufficiently eloquent to reveal his +jealousy. He took his wife for an American tour, and when he brought her +back to London, Lambert, knowing only too truly the reason for that +tour, had gone away in his turn to shoot big game in Africa. An attack +of malaria contracted in the Congo marshes had driven him back to +England, and it was then that he had begged Garvington to give him The +Abbot's Wood Cottage. For six months he had been shut up here, +occasionally going to London, or for a week's walking tour, and during +that time he had done his best to banish the image of Agnes from his +heart. Doubtless she was attempting the same conquest, for she never +even wrote to him. And now these two sorely-tried people were within +speaking distance of one another, and strange results might be looked +for unless honor held them sufficiently true. Seeing that the cottage +was near the family seat, and that Agnes sooner or later would arrive to +stay with her brother and sister-in-law, Lambert might have expected +that such a situation would come about in the natural course of things. +Perhaps he did, and perhaps--as some busybodies said--he took the +cottage for that purpose; but so far, he had refrained from seeking the +society of Pine's wife. He would not even dine at The Manor, nor would +he join the shooting-party, although Garvington, with a singular +blindness, urged him to do so. While daylight lasted, the artist painted +desperately hard, and after dark wandered round the lanes and roads and +across the fields, haunting almost unconsciously the Manor Park, if only +to see in moonlight and twilight the casket which held the rich jewel he +had lost. This was foolish, and Lambert acknowledged that it was +foolish, but at the same time he added inwardly that he was a man and +not an angel, a sinner and not a saint, so that there were limits, etc., +etc., etc., using impossible arguments to quieten a lively conscience +that did not approve of this dangerous philandering. + +The visit of Miss Greeby awoke him positively to a sense of danger, for +if she talked--and talk she did--other people would talk also. Lambert +asked himself if it would be better to visit The Manor and behave like +a man who has got over his passion, or to leave the cottage and betake +himself to London. While turning over this problem in his mind, he +painted feverishly, and for three days after Miss Greeby had come to +stir up muddy water, he remained as much as possible in his studio. +Chaldea visited him, as usual, to be painted, and brought Kara with his +green coat and beloved violin and hairy looks. The girl chatted, Kara +played, and Lambert painted, and all three pretended to be very happy +and careless. This was merely on the surface, however, for the artist +was desperately wretched, because the other half of himself was married +to another man, while Chaldea, getting neither love-look nor caress, +felt savagely discontented. As for Kara, he had long since loved +Chaldea, who treated him like a dog, and he could not help seeing that +she adored the Gentile artist--a knowledge which almost broke his heart. +But it was some satisfaction for him to note that Lambert would have +nothing to do with the siren, and that she could not charm him to her +feet, sang she ever so tenderly. It was an unhappy trio at the best. + +The gypsies usually came in the morning, since the light was then better +for artistic purposes, but they always departed at one o'clock, so that +Lambert had the afternoon to himself. Chaldea would fain have lingered +in order to charm the man she loved into subjection; but he never gave +her the least encouragement, so she was obliged to stay away. All the +same, she often haunted the woods near the cottage, and when Lambert +came out for a stroll, which he usually did when it became too dark to +paint, he was bound to run across her. Since he had not the slightest +desire to make love to her, and did not fathom the depth of her passion, +he never suspected that she purposely contrived the meetings which he +looked upon as accidental. + +Since Chaldea hung round the house, like a moth round a candle, she saw +every one who came and went from the woodland cottage. On the afternoon +of the third day since Pine's arrival at the camp in the character of +Ishmael Hearne, the gypsy saw Lady Agnes coming through the wood. +Chaldea knew her at once, having often seen her when she had come to +visit Mother Cockleshell a few months previously. With characteristic +cunning, the girl dived into the undergrowth, and there remained +concealed for the purpose of spying on the Gentile lady whom she +regarded as a rival. Immediately, Chaldea guessed that Lady Agnes was +on her way to the cottage, and, as Lambert was alone as usual for the +afternoon, the two would probably have a private conversation. The girl +swiftly determined to listen, so that she might learn exactly how +matters stood between them. It might be that she would discover +something which Pine--Chaldea now thought of him as Pine--might like to +know. So having arranged this in her own unscrupulous mind, the girl +behind a juniper bush jealously watched the unsuspecting lady. What she +saw did not please her overmuch, as Lady Agnes was rather too beautiful +for her unknown rival's peace of mind. + +Sir Hubert's wife was not really the exquisitely lovely creature Chaldea +took her to be, but her fair skin and brown hair were such a contrast to +the gypsy's swarthy face and raven locks, that she really looked like an +angel of light compared with the dark child of Nature. Agnes was tall +and slender, and moved with a great air of dignity and calm +self-possession, and this to the uncontrolled Chaldea was also a matter +of offence. She inwardly tried to belittle her rival by thinking what a +milk-and-water useless person she was, but the steady and resolute look +in the lady's brown eyes gave the lie to this mental assertion. Lady +Agnes had an air of breeding and command, which, with all her beauty, +Chaldea lacked, and as she passed along like a cold, stately goddess, +the gypsy rolled on the grass in an ecstasy of rage. She could never be +what her rival was, and what her rival was, as she suspected, formed +Lambert's ideal of womanhood. When she again peered through the bush, +Lady Agnes had disappeared. But there was no need for Chaldea to ask her +jealous heart where she had gone. With the stealth and cunning of a Red +Indian, the gypsy took up the trail, and saw the woman she followed +enter the cottage. For a single moment she had it in her mind to run to +the camp and bring Pine, but reflecting that in a moment of rage the man +might kill Lambert, Chaldea checked her first impulse, and bent all her +energies towards getting sufficiently near to listen to a conversation +which was not meant for her ears. + +Meanwhile, Agnes had been admitted by Mrs. Tribb, a dried-up little +woman with the rosy face of a winter apple, and a continual smile of +satisfaction with herself and with her limited world. This consisted of +the cottage, in the wood, and of the near villages, where she repaired +on occasions to buy food. Sometimes, indeed, she went to The Manor, for, +born and bred on the Garvington estates, Mrs. Tribb knew all the +servants at the big house. She had married a gamekeeper, who had died, +and unwilling to leave the country she knew best, had gladly accepted +the offer of Lord Garvington to look after the woodland cottage. In this +way Lambert became possessed of an exceedingly clean housekeeper, and a +wonderfully good cook. In fact so excellent a cook was Mrs. Tribb, that +Garvington had frequently suggested she should come to The Manor. But, +so far, Lambert had managed to keep the little woman to himself. Mrs. +Tribb adored him, since she had known him from babyhood, and declined to +leave him under any circumstances. She thought Lambert the best man in +the world, and challenged the universe to find another so handsome and +clever, and so considerate. + +"Dear me, my lady, is it yourself?" said Mrs. Tribb, throwing up her dry +little hands and dropping a dignified curtsey. "Well, I do call it good +of you to come and see Master Noel. He don't go out enough, and don't +take enough interest in his stomach, if your ladyship will pardon my +mentioning that part of him. But you don't know, my lady, what it is to +be a cook, and to see the dishes get cold, while he as should eat them +goes on painting, not but what Master Noel don't paint like an angel, as +I've said dozens of times." + +While Mrs. Tribb ran on in this manner her lively black eyes twinkled +anxiously. She knew that her master and Lady Agnes had been, as she said +herself, "next door to engaged," and knew also that Lambert was fretting +over the match which had been brought about for the glorification of the +family. The housekeeper, therefore, wondered why Lady Agnes had come, +and asked herself whether it would not be wise to say that Master +Noel--from old associations, she always called Lambert by this juvenile +title--was not at home. But she banished the thought as unworthy, the +moment it entered her active brain, and with another curtsey in response +to the visitor's greeting, she conducted her to the studio. "Them two +angels will never do no wrong, anyhow," was Mrs. Tribb's reflection, as +she closed the door and left the pair together. "But I do hope as that +black-faced husband won't ever learn. He's as jealous as Cain, and I +don't want Master Noel to be no Abel!" + +If Mrs. Tribb, instead of going to the kitchen, which she did, had gone +out of the front door, she would have found Chaldea lying full length +amongst the flowers under the large window of the studio. This was +slightly open, and the girl could hear every word that was spoken, while +so swiftly and cleverly had she gained her point of vantage, that those +within never for one moment suspected her presence. If they had, they +would assuredly have kept better guard over their tongues, for the +conversation was of the most private nature, and did not tend to soothe +the eavesdropper's jealousy. + +Lambert was so absorbed in his painting--he was working at the +Esmeralda-Quasimodo picture--that he scarcely heard the studio door +open, and it was only when Mrs. Tribb's shrill voice announced the name +of his visitor, that he woke to the surprising fact that the woman he +loved was within a few feet of him. The blood rushed to his face, and +then retired to leave him deadly pale, but Agnes was more composed, and +did not let her heart's tides mount to high-water mark. On seeing her +self-possession, the man became ashamed that he had lost his own, and +strove to conceal his momentary lapse into a natural emotion, by pushing +forward an arm-chair. + +"This is a surprise, Agnes," he said in a voice which he strove vainly +to render steady. "Won't you sit down?" + +"Thank you," and she took her seat like a queen on her throne, looking +fair and gracious as any white lily. What with her white dress, white +gloves and shoes, and straw hat tied under her chin with a broad white +ribbon in old Georgian fashion, she looked wonderfully cool, and pure, +and--as Lambert inwardly observed--holy. Her face was as faintly tinted +with color as is a tea-rose, and her calm, brown eyes, under her smooth +brown hair, added to the suggestive stillness of her looks. She seemed +in her placidity to be far removed from any earthly emotion, and +resembled a picture of the Madonna, serene, peaceful, and somewhat sad. +Yet who could tell what anguished feelings were masked by her womanly +pride? + +"I hope you do not find the weather too warm for walking," said Lambert, +reining in his emotions with an iron hand, and speaking conventionally. + +"Not at all. I enjoyed the walk. I am staying at The Manor." + +"So I understand." + +"And you are staying here?" + +"There can be no doubt on that point." + +"Do you think you are acting wisely?" she asked with great calmness. + +"I might put the same question to you, Agnes, seeing that you have come +to live within three miles of my hermitage." + +"It is because you are living in what you call your hermitage that I +have come," rejoined Agnes, with a slight color deepening her cheeks. +"Is it fair to me that you should shut yourself up and play the part of +the disappointed lover?" + +Lambert, who had been touching up his picture here and there, laid down +his palette and brushes with ostentatious care, and faced her doggedly. +"I don't understand what you mean," he declared. + +"Oh, I think you do; and in the hope that I may induce you, in justice +to me, to change your conduct, I have come over." + +"I don't think you should have come," he observed in a low voice, and +threw himself on the couch with averted eyes. + +Lady Agnes colored again. "You are talking nonsense," she said with some +sharpness. "There is no harm in my coming to see my cousin." + +"We were more than cousins once." + +"Exactly, and unfortunately people know that. But you needn't make +matters worse by so pointedly keeping away from me." + +Lambert looked up quickly. "Do you wish me to see you often?" he asked, +and there was a new note in his voice which irritated her. + +"Personally I don't, but--" + +"But what?" He rose and stood up, very tall and very straight, looking +down on her with a hungry look in his blue eyes. + +"People are talking," murmured the lady, and stared at the floor, +because she could not face that same look. + +"Let them talk. What does it matter?" + +"Nothing to you, perhaps, but to me a great deal. I have a husband." + +"As I know to my cost," he interpolated. + +"Then don't let me know it to _my_ cost," she said pointedly. "Sit down +and let us talk common sense." + +Lambert did not obey at once. "I am only a human being, Agnes--" + +"Quite so, and a man at that. Act like a man, then, and don't place the +burden on a woman's shoulders." + +"What burden?" + +"Oh, Noel, can't you understand?" + +"I daresay I can if you will explain. I wish you hadn't come here +to-day. I have enough to bear without that." + +"And have I nothing to bear?" she demanded, a flash of passion ruffling +her enforced calm. "Do you think that anything but the direst need +brought me here?" + +"I don't know what brought you here. I am waiting for an explanation." + +"What is the use of explaining what you already know?" + +"I know nothing," he repeated doggedly. "Explain." + +"Well," said Lady Agnes with some bitterness, "it seems to me that an +explanation is really necessary, as apparently I am talking to a child +instead of a man. Sit down and listen." + +This time Lambert obeyed, and laughed as he did so. "Your taunts don't +hurt me in the least," he observed. "I love you too much." + +"And I love in return. No! Don't rise again. I did not come here to +revive the embers of our dead passion." + +"Embers!" cried Lambert with bitter scorn. "Embers, indeed! And a dead +passion; how well you put it. So far as I am concerned, Agnes, the +passion is not dead and never will be." + +"I am aware of that, and so I have come to appeal to that passion. Love +means sacrifice. I want you to understand that." + +"I do, by experience. Did I not surrender you for the sake of the family +name? Understand! I should think I did understand." + +"I--think--not," said Lady Agnes slowly and gently. "It is necessary to +revive your recollections. We loved one another since we were boy and +girl, and we intended, as you know, to marry. There was no regular +engagement between us, but it was an understood family arrangement. My +father always approved of it; my brother did not." + +"No. Because he saw in you an article of sale out of which he hoped to +make money," sneered Lambert, nursing his ankle. + +Lady Agnes winced. "Don't make it too hard for me," she said +plaintively. "My life is uncomfortable enough as it is. Remember that +when my father died we were nearly ruined. Only by the greatest +cleverness did Garvington manage to keep interest on the mortgages paid +up, hoping that he would marry a rich wife--an American for choice--and +so could put things straight. But he married Jane, as you know--" + +"Because he is a glutton, and she knows all about cooking." + +"Well, gluttony may be as powerful a vice as drinking and gambling, and +all the rest of it. It is with Garvington, although I daresay that +seeing the position he was in, people would laugh to think he should +marry a poor woman, when he needed a rich wife. But at that time Hubert +wanted to marry me, and Garvington got his cook-wife, while I was +sacrificed." + +"Seeing that I loved you and you loved me, I wonder--" + +"Yes, I know you wondered, but you finally accepted my explanation that +I did it to save the family name." + +"I did, and, much as I hated your sacrifice, it was necessary." + +"More necessary than you think," said Lady Agnes, sinking her voice to +a whisper and glancing round, "In a moment of madness Garvington altered +a check which Hubert gave him, and was in danger of arrest. Hubert +declared that he would give up the check if I married him. I did so, to +save my brother and the family name." + +"Oh, Agnes!" Lambert jumped up. "I never knew this." + +"It was not necessary to tell you. I made the excuse of saving the +family name and property generally. You thought it was merely the +bankruptcy court, but I knew that it meant the criminal court. However, +I married Hubert, and he put the check in the fire in my presence and in +Garvington's. He has also fulfilled his share of the bargain which he +made when he bought me, and has paid off a great many of the mortgages. +However, Garvington became too outrageous in his demands, and lately +Hubert has refused to help him any more. I don't blame him; he has paid +enough for me." + +"You are worth it," said Lambert emphatically. + +"Well, you may think so, and perhaps he does also. But does it not +strike you, Noel, what a poor figure I and Garvington, and the whole +family, yourself included, cut in the eyes of the world? We were poor, +and I was sold to get money to save the land." + +"Yes, but this changing of the check also--" + +"The world doesn't know of that," said Agnes hurriedly. "Hubert has been +very loyal to me. I must be loyal to him." + +"You are. Who dares to say that you are not?" + +"No one--as yet," she replied pointedly. + +"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, flushing through his fair skin. + +"I mean that if you met me in the ordinary way, and behaved to me as an +ordinary man, people would not talk. But you shun my society, and even +when I am at The Manor, you do not come near because of my presence." + +"It is so hard to be near you and yet, owing to your marriage, so far +from you," muttered the man savagely. + +"If it is hard for you, think how hard it must be for me," said the +woman vehemently, her passion coming to the surface. "People talk of the +way in which you avoid me, and hint that we love one another still." + +"It is true! Agnes, you know it is true!" + +"Need the whole world know that it is true?" cried Agnes, rising, with +a gust of anger passing over her face. "If you would only come to The +Manor, and meet me in London, and accept Hubert's invitations to dinner, +people would think that our attachment was only a boy and girl +engagement, that we had outgrown. They would even give me credit for +loving Hubert--" + +"But you don't?" cried Lambert with a jealous pang. + +"Yes, I do. He is my chosen husband, and has carried out his part of the +bargain by freeing many of Garvington's estates. Surely the man ought to +have something for his money. I don't love him as a wife should love her +husband, not with heart-whole devotion, that is. But I give him loyalty, +and I respect him, and I try to make him happy in every way. I do my +part, Noel, as you do yours. Since I have been compelled to sacrifice +love for money, at least let us be true to the sacrifice." + +"You didn't sacrifice yourself wholly for money." + +"No, I did not. It was because of Garvington's crime. But no one knows +of that, and no one ever shall know. In fact, so happy am I and +Hubert--" + +"Happy?" said Lambert wincing. + +"Yes," she declared firmly. "He thinks so, and whatever unhappiness I +may feel, I conceal from him. But you must come to The Manor, and meet +me here, there, and everywhere, so that people shall not say, as they +are doing, that you are dying of love, and that, because I am a greedy +fortune-hunter, I ruined your life." + +"They do not dare. I have not heard any--" + +"What can you hear in this jungle?" interrupted Lady Agnes with scorn. +"You stop your ears with cotton wool, but I am in the world, hearing +everything. And the more unpleasant the thing is, the more readily do +I hear it. You can end this trouble by coming out of your lovesick +retirement, and by showing that you no longer care for me." + +"That would be acting a lie." + +"And do I not act a lie?" she cried fiercely. "Is not my whole marriage +a lie? I despise myself for my weakness in yielding, and yet, God help +me, what else could I do when Garvington's fair fame was in question? +Think of the disgrace, had he been prosecuted by Hubert. And Hubert +knows that you and I loved; that I could not give him the love he +desired. He was content to accept me on those terms. I don't say he was +right; but am I right, are you right, is Garvington right? Is any one of +us right? Not one, not one. The whole thing is horrible, but I make the +best of it, since I did what I did do, openly and for a serious purpose +of which the world knows nothing. Do your part, Noel, and come to The +Manor, if only to show that you no longer care for me. You +understand"--she clasped her hands in agony. "You surely understand." + +"Yes," said Lambert in a low voice, and suddenly looked years older. "I +understand at last, Agnes. You shall no longer bear the burden alone. I +shall be a loyal friend to you, my dear," and he took her hand. + +"Will you be a loyal friend to my husband?" she asked, withdrawing it. + +"Yes," said Lambert, and he bit his lip. "God helping me, I will." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE MAN AND THE WOMAN. + + + +The interview between Lady Agnes and Lambert could scarcely be called a +love-scene, since it was dominated by a stern sense of duty. Chaldea, +lying at length amongst the crushed and fragrant flowers, herself in her +parti-colored attire scarcely distinguishable from the rainbow blossoms, +was puzzled by the way in which the two reined in their obvious +passions. To her simple, barbaric nature, the situation appeared +impossible. If he loved her and she loved him, why did they not run away +to enjoy life together? The husband who had paid money for the wife did +not count, nor did the brother, who had sold his sister to hide his +criminal folly. That Lady Agnes should have traded herself to save +Garvington from a well-deserved punishment, seemed inexcusable to the +gypsy. If he had been the man she loved, then indeed might she have +acted rightly. But having thrown over that very man in this silly +fashion, for the sake of what did not appear to be worth the sacrifice, +Chaldea felt that Agnes did not deserve Lambert, and she then and there +determined that the Gentile lady should never possess him. + +Of course, on the face of it, there was no question of possession. The +man being weaker than the woman would have been only too glad to elope, +and thus cut the Gordian knot of the unhappy situation. But the woman, +having acted from a high sense of duty, which Chaldea could not rise to, +evidently was determined to continue to be a martyr. The question was, +could she keep up that pose in the face of the undeniable fact that she +loved her cousin? The listening girl thought not. Sooner or later the +artificial barrier would be broken through by the held-back flood of +passion, and then Lady Agnes would run away from the man who had bought +her. And quite right, too, thought Chaldea, although she had no notion +of permitting such an elopement to take place. That Agnes would hold to +her bargain all her life, because Hubert had fulfilled his part, never +occurred to the girl. She was not civilized enough to understand this +problem of a highly refined nature. + +Since the situation was so difficult, Lambert was glad to see the back +of his cousin. He escorted her to the door, but did not attend her +through the wood. In fact, they parted rather abruptly, which was wise. +All had been said that could be said, and Lambert had given his promise +to share the burden with Agnes by acting the part of a lover who had +never really been serious. But it did not do to discuss details, as +these were too painful, so the woman hurried away without a backward +glance, and Lambert, holding his heart between his teeth, returned to +the studio. Neither one of the two noticed Chaldea crouching amongst the +flowers. Had they been less pre-occupied, they might have done so; as it +was she escaped observation. + +As soon as the coast was clear, Chaldea stole like a snake along the +ground, through the high herbage of the garden, and beyond the circle of +the mysterious monoliths. Even across the lawns of the glade did she +crawl, so as not to be seen, although she need not have taken all this +trouble, since Lambert, with a set face and a trembling hand, was +working furiously at a minor picture he utilized to get rid of such +moods. But the gypsy did not know this, and so writhed into the woods +like the snake of Eden--and of that same she was a very fair +sample--until, hidden by the boles of ancient trees, she could stand +upright. When she did so, she drew a long breath, and wondered what was +best to be done. + +The most obvious course was to seek Ishmael and make a lying report of +the conversation. That his wife should have been with Lambert would be +quite enough to awaken the civilized gypsy's jealousy, for after all his +civilization was but skin deep. Still, if she did this, Chaldea was +clever enough to see that she would precipitate a catastrophe, and +either throw Agnes into Lambert's arms, or make the man run the risk of +getting Pine's knife tickling his fifth rib. Either result did not +appeal to her. She wished to get Lambert to herself, and his safety was +of vital importance to her. After some consideration, she determined +that she would boldly face the lover, and confess that she had overheard +everything. Then she would have him in her power, since to save the +wife from the vengeance of the husband, although there was no reason for +such vengeance, he would do anything to keep the matter of the visit +quiet. Of course the interview had been innocent, and Chaldea knew that +such was the case. Nevertheless, by a little dexterous lying, and some +vivid word-painting, she could make things extremely unpleasant for the +couple. This being so, Lambert would have to subscribe to her terms. And +these were, that he should leave Agnes and marry her. That there was +such a difference in their rank mattered nothing to the girl. Love +levelled all ranks, in her opinion. + +But while arranging what she should do, if Lambert proved obstinate, +Chaldea also arranged to fascinate him, if possible, into loving her. +She did not wish to use her power of knowledge until her power of +fascination failed. And this for two reasons. In the first place, it was +not her desire to drive the man into a corner lest he should defy her +and fight, which would mean--to her limited comprehension--that +everything being known to Pine, the couple would confess all and elope. +In the second place, Chaldea was piqued to think that Lambert should +prove to be so indifferent to her undeniable beauty, as to love this +pale shadow of a Gentile lady. She would make certain, she told herself, +if he really preferred the lily to the full-blown rose, and on his +choice depended her next step. Gliding back to the camp, she decided to +attend to one thing at a time, and the immediate necessity was to charm +the man into submission. For this reason Chaldea sought out the Servian +gypsy, who was her slave. + +Her slave Kara certainly was, but not her rom. If he had been her +husband she would not have dared to propose to him what she did propose. +He was amiable enough as a slave, because he had no hold over her, but +if she married him according to the gypsy law, he would then be her +master, and should she indulge her fancy for a Gentile, he would +assuredly use a very nasty-looking knife, which he wore under the green +coat. Even as it was, Kara would not be pleased to fiddle to her +dancing, since he already was jealous of Lambert. But Chaldea knew how +to manage this part of the business, risky though it was. The hairy +little ape with the musician's soul had no claim on her, unless she +chose to give him that of a husband. Then, indeed, things would be +different, but the time had not come for marital slavery. + +The schemer found Kara at the hour of sunset sitting at the door of the +tent he occupied, drawing sweet tones from his violin. This was the +little man's way of conversing, for he rarely talked to human beings. He +spoke to the fiddle and the fiddle spoke to him, probably about Chaldea, +since the girl was almost incessantly in his thoughts. She occupied them +now, and when he raised his shaggy head at the touch on his hump-back, +he murmured with joy at the sight of her flushed beauty. Had he known +that the flush came from jealousy of a rival, Kara might not have been +so pleased. The two conversed in Romany, since the Servian did not speak +English. + +"Brother?" questioned Chaldea, standing in the glory of the rosy sunset +which slanted through the trees. "What of Ishmael?" + +"He is with Gentilla in her tent, sister. Do you wish to see him?" + +Chaldea shook her proud head. "What have I to do with the half Romany? +Truly, brother, his heart is Gentile, though his skin be of Egypt." + +"Why should that be, sister, when his name signifies that he is of the +gentle breed?" asked Kara, laying down his violin. + +"Gentile but not gentle," said Chaldea punning, then checked herself +lest she should say too much. She had sworn to keep Pine's secret, and +intended to do so, until she could make capital out of it. At present +she could not, so behaved honorably. "But he's Romany enough to split +words with the old witch by the hour, so let him stay where he is. +Brother, would you make money?" Kara nodded and looked up with diamond +eyes, which glittered and gloated on the beauty of her dark face. "Then, +brother," continued the girl, "the Gorgio who paints gives me gold to +dance for him." + +The Servian's face--what could be seen of it for hair--grew sombre, and +he spat excessively. "Curses on the Gentile!" he growled low in his +throat. + +"On him, but not on the money, brother," coaxed the girl, stooping to +pat his face. "It's fine work, cheating the rye. But jealous you must +not be, if the gold is to chink in our pockets." + +Kara still frowned. "Were you my romi, sister--" + +"Aye, if I were. Then indeed. But your romi I am not yet." + +"Some day you will be. It would be a good fortune, sister. I am as ugly +as you are lovely, and we two together, you dancing to my playing, would +make pockets of red gold. White shows best when placed on black." + +"What a mine of wisdom you are," jeered Chaldea, nodding. "Yes. It is +so, and my rom you may be, if you obey." + +"But if you let the Gorgio make love to you--" + +"Hey! Am I not a free Roman, brother? You have not yet caught the bird. +It still sings on the bough. If I kiss him I suck gold from his lips. If +I put fond arms around his neck I but gather wealth for us both. Can you +snare a mouse without cheese, brother?" + +Kara looked at her steadily, and then lifted his green coat to show +the gleam of a butcher knife. "Should you go too far," he said +significantly; and touched the blade. + +Chaldea bent swiftly, and snatching the weapon from his belt, flung it +into the coarse grass under the trees. "So I fling you away," said she, +and stamped with rage. "Truly, brother, speaking Romanly, you are a fool +of fools, and take cheating for honesty. I lure the Gorgio at my will, +and says you whimpering-like, 'She's my romi,' the which is a lie. Bless +your wisdom for a hairy toad, and good-bye, for I go to my own people +near Lundra, and never will he who doubted my honesty see me more." + +She turned away, and Kara limped after her to implore forgiveness. He +assured her that he trusted her fully, and that whatever tricks she +played the Gentile would not be taken seriously by himself. "Poison him +I would," grumbled the little gnome in his beard. "For his golden talk +makes you smile sweetly upon him. But for the gold--" + +"Yes, for the gold we must play the fox. Well, brother, now that you +talk so, wait until the moon is up, then hide in the woods round the +cottage dell with your violin to your chin. I lure the rabbit from its +hole, and then you play the dance that delights the Gorgios. But what I +do, with kisses or arm-loving, my brother," she added shaking her +finger, "is but the play of the wind to shake the leaves. Believe me +honest and my rom you shall be--some day!" and she went away laughing, +to eat and drink, for the long watching had tired her. As for Kara he +crawled again into the underwood to search for his knife. Apparently he +did not trust Chaldea as much as she wanted him to. + +Thus it came about that when the moon rolled through a starry sky like a +golden wheel, Lambert, sighing at his studio window, saw a slim and +graceful figure glide into the clear space of lawn beyond the monoliths. +So searching was the thin moonlight that he recognized Chaldea at once, +as she wandered here and there restless as a butterfly, and apparently +as aimless. But, had he known it, she had her eyes on the cottage all +the time, and had he failed to come forth she would have come to inquire +if he was at home. But the artist did come forth, thinking to wile away +an hour with the fascinating gypsy girl. Always dressing for dinner, +even in solitude, for the habit of years was too strong to lay +aside--and, moreover, he was fastidious in his dress to preserve his +self-respect--he appeared at the door looking slender and well-set up in +his dark clothes. Although it was August the night was warm, and Lambert +did not trouble to put on cap or overcoat. With his hands in his pockets +and a cigar between his lips he strolled over to the girl, where she +swayed and swung in the fairy light. + +"Hullo, Chaldea," he said leisurely, and leaning against one of the +moss-grown monoliths, "what are you doing here?" + +"The rye," exclaimed Chaldea, with a well-feigned start of surprise. +"Avali the rye. Sarishan, my Gorgious gentleman, you, too, are a +nightbird. Have you come out mousing like an owl? Ha! ha! and you hear +the nightingale singing, speaking in the Gentile manner," and clapping +her hands she lifted up a full rich voice. + +"Dyal o pani repedishis, +M'ro pirano hegedishis." + +"What does that mean, Chaldea?" + +"It is an Hungarian song, and means that while the stream flows I hear +the violin of my love. Kara taught me the ditty." + +"And Kara is your love?" + +"No. Oh, no; oh, no," sang Chaldea, whirling round and round in quite a +magical manner. "No rom have I, but a mateless bird I wander. Still I +hear the violin of my true love, my new love, who knows my droms, and +that means my habits, rye," she ended, suddenly speaking in a natural +manner. + +"I don't hear the violin, however," said Lambert lazily, and thinking +what a picturesque girl she was in her many-hued rag-tag garments, and +with the golden coins glittering in her black hair. + +"You will, rye, you will," she said confidentially. "Come, my darling +gentleman, cross my hand with silver and I dance. I swear it. No hokkeny +baro will you behold when the wind pipes for me." + +"Hokkeny baro." + +"A great swindle, my wise sir. Hai, what a pity you cannot patter the +gentle Romany tongue. Kek! Kek! What does it matter, when you speak +Gentile gibberish like an angel. Sit, rye, and I dance for you." + +"Quite like Carmen and Don Jose in the opera," murmured Lambert, sliding +down to the foot of the rude stone. + +"What of her and of him? Were they Romans?" + +"Carmen was and Jose wasn't. She danced herself into his heart." + +Chaldea's eyes flashed, and she made a hasty sign to attract the happy +omen of his saying to herself. "Kushto bak," cried Chaldea, using the +gypsy for good luck. "And to me, to me," she clapped her hand. "Hark, my +golden rye, and watch me dance your love into my life." + +The wind was rising and sighed through the wood, shaking myriad leaves +from the trees. Blending with its faint cry came a long, sweet, +sustained note of music. Lambert started, so weird and unexpected was +the sound. "Kara, isn't it?" he asked, looking inquiringly at Chaldea. + +"He talks to the night--he speaks with the wind. Oh-ah-ah-ah. +Ah-oha-oha-oha-ho," sang the gypsy, clapping her hands softly, then, +as the music came breathing from the hidden violin in dreamy sensuous +tones, she raised her bare arms and began to dance. The place, the +dancer, the hour, the mysterious music, and the pale enchantments of +the moon--it was like fairyland. + +Lambert soon let his cigar go out, so absorbed did he become in watching +the dance. It was a wonderful performance, sensuous and weirdly unusual. +He had never seen a dance exactly like it before. The violin notes +sounded like actual words, and the dancer answered them with responsive +movements of her limbs, so that without speech the onlooker saw a +love-drama enacted before his eyes. Chaldea--so he interpreted the +dance--swayed gracefully from the hips, without moving her feet, in the +style of a Nautch girl. She was waiting for some one, since to right and +left she swung with a delicate hand curved behind her ear. Suddenly she +started, as if she heard an approaching footstep, and in maidenly +confusion glided to a distance, where she stood with her hands across +her bosom, the very picture of a surprised nymph. Mentally, the dance +translated itself to Lambert somewhat after this fashion: + +"She waits for her lover. That little run forward means that she sees +him coming. She falls at his feet; she kisses them. He raises her--I +suppose that panther spring from the ground means that he raises her. +She caresses him with much fondling and many kisses. By Jove, what +pantomime! Now she dances to please him. She stops and trembles; the +dance does not satisfy. She tries another. No! No! Not that! It is too +dreamy--the lover is in a martial mood. This time she strikes his fancy. +Kara is playing a wild Hungarian polonaise. Wonderful! Wonderful!" + +He might well say so, and he struggled to his feet, leaning against the +pillar of stone to see the dancer better. From the wood came the fierce +and stirring Slav music, and Chaldea's whole expressive body answered to +every note as a needle does to a magnet. She leaped, clicking her heels +together, advanced, as if on the foe, with a bound--was flung back--so +it seemed--and again sprang to the assault. She stiffened to stubborn +resistance--she unexpectedly became pliant and yielding and graceful, +and voluptuous, while the music took on the dreamy tones of love. And +Lambert translated the change after his own idea: + +"The music does not please the dancer--it is too martial. She fears lest +her lover should rush off to the wars, and seeks to detain him by the +dance of Venus. But he will go. He rises; he speeds away; she breaks off +the dance. Ah! what a cry of despair the violin gave just now. She +follows, stretching out her empty arms. But it is useless--he is gone. +Bah! She snaps her fingers. What does she care! She will dance to please +herself, and to show that her heart is yet whole. What a Bacchanalian +strain. She whirls and springs and swoops and leaps. She comes near to +me, whirling like a Dervish; she recedes, and then comes spinning round +again, like a mad creature. And then--oh, hang it! What do you mean? +Chaldea, what are you doing?" + +Lambert had some excuse for suddenly bursting into speech, when he cried +out vigorously: "Oh, hang it!" for Chaldea whirled right up to him and +had laid her arms round his neck, and her lips against his cheek. The +music stopped abruptly, with a kind of angry snarl, as if Kara, furious +at the sight, had put his wrath into the last broken note. Then all was +silent, and the artist found himself imprisoned in the arms of the +woman, which were locked round his neck. With an oath he unlinked her +fingers and flung her away from him fiercely. + +"You fool--you utter fool!" cried Lambert, striving to calm down the +beating of his heart, and restrain the racing of his blood, for he was +a man, and the sudden action of the gypsy had nearly swept away his +self-restraint. + +"I love you--I love you," panted Chaldea from the grass, where he had +thrown her. "Oh, my beautiful one, I love you." + +"You are crazy," retorted Lambert, quivering with many emotions to which +he could scarcely put a name, so shaken was he by the experience. "What +the devil do you mean by behaving in this way?" and his voice rose in +such a gust of anger that Kara, hidden in the wood, rejoiced. He could +not understand what was being said, but the tone of the voice was enough +for him. He did not know whether Chaldea was cheating the Gentile, or +cheating him; but he gathered that in either case, she had been +repulsed. The girl knew that also, when her ardent eyes swept across +Lambert's white face, and she burst into tears of anger and +disappointment. + +"Oh, rye, I give you all, and you take nothing," she wailed tearfully. + +"I don't want anything. You silly girl, do you think that for one moment +I was ever in love with you?" + +"I--I--want you--to--to--love me," sobbed Chaldea, grovelling on the +grass. + +"Then you want an impossibility," and to Lambert's mind's eye there +appeared the vision of a calm and beautiful face, far removed in its +pure looks from the flushed beauty of the fiery gypsy. To gain control +of himself, he took out a cigar and lighted it. But his hand trembled. +"You little fool," he muttered, and sauntered, purposely, slowly toward +the cottage. + +Chaldea gathered herself up with the spring of a tigress, and in a +moment was at his elbow with her face black with rage. Her tears had +vanished and with them went her softer mood. "You--you reject me," she +said in grating tones, and shaking from head to foot as she gripped his +shoulder. + +"Take away your hand," commanded Lambert sharply, and when she recoiled +a pace he faced her squarely. "You must have been drinking," he +declared, hoping to insult her into common sense. "What would Kara say +if--" + +"I don't want Kara. I want you," interrupted Chaldea, her breast +heaving, and looking sullenly wrathful. + +"Then you can't have me. Why should you think of me in this silly way? +We were very good friends, and now you have spoiled everything. I can +never have you to sit for me again." + +Chaldea's lip drooped. "Never again? Never again?" + +"No. It is impossible, since you have chosen to act in this way. Come, +you silly girl, be sensible, and--" + +"Silly girl! Oh, yes, silly girl," flashed out Chaldea. "And what is +she?" + +"She?" Lambert stiffened himself. "What do you mean?" + +"I mean the Gentile lady. I was under the window this afternoon. I heard +all you were talking about." + +The man stepped back a pace and clenched his hands. "You--listened?" he +asked slowly, and with a very white face. + +Chaldea nodded with a triumphant smile. + +"Avali! And why not? You have no right to love another man's romi." + +"I do not love her," began Lambert, and then checked himself, as he +really could not discuss so delicate a matter with this wildcat. "Why +did you listen, may I ask?" he demanded, passing his tongue over his dry +lips. + +"Because I love you, and love is jealous." + +Lambert restrained himself by a violent effort from shaking her. "You +are talking nonsense," he declared with enforced calmness. "And it is +ridiculous for you to love a man who does not care in the least for +you." + +"It will come--I can wait," insisted Chaldea sullenly. + +"If you wait until Doomsday it will make no difference. I don't love +you, and I have never given you any reason to think so." + +"Chee-chee!" bantered the girl. "Is that because I am not a raclan?" + +"A raclan?" + +"A married Gentile lady, that is. You love her?" + +"I--I--see, here, Chaldea, I am not going to talk over such things with +you, as my affairs are not your business." + +"They are the business of the Gorgious female's rom." + +"Rom? Her husband, you mean. What do you know of--" + +"I know that the Gentle Pine is really one of us," interrupted the girl +quickly. "Ishmael Hearne is his name." + +"Sir Hubert Pine?" + +"Ishmael Hearne," insisted Chaldea pertly. "He comes to the fire of the +Gentle Romany when he wearies of your Gorgious flesh-pots." + +"Pine a gypsy," muttered Lambert, and the memory of that dark, lean, +Eastern face impressed him with the belief that what the girl said was +true. + +"Avali. A true son of the road. He is here." + +"Here?" Lambert started violently. "What do you mean?" + +"I say what I mean, rye. He you call Pine is in our camp enjoying the +old life. Shall I bring him to you?" she inquired demurely. + +In a flash Lambert saw his danger, and the danger of Agnes, seeing that +the millionaire was as jealous as Othello. However, it seemed to him +that honesty was the best policy at the moment. "I shall see him myself +later," he declared after a pause. "If you listened, you must know that +there is no reason why I should not see him. His wife is my cousin, and +paid me a friendly visit--that is all." + +"Yes; that is all," mocked the girl contemptuously. "But if I tell +him--" + +"Tell him what?" + +"That you love his romi!" + +"He knows that," said Lambert quietly. "And knows also that I am an +honorable man. See here, Chaldea, you are dangerous, because this silly +love of yours has warped your common sense. You can make a lot of +mischief if you so choose, I know well." + +"And I _shall_ choose, my golden rye, if you love me not." + +"Then set about it at once," said Lambert boldly. "It is best to be +honest, my girl. I have done nothing wrong, and I don't intend to do +anything wrong, so you can say what you like. To-night I shall go to +London, and if Pine, or Hearne, or whatever you call him, wants me, he +knows my town address." + +"You defy me?" panted Chaldea, her breast rising and falling quickly. + +"Yes; truth must prevail in the end. I make no bargain with a spy," and +he gave her a contemptuous look, as he strode into the cottage and shut +the door with an emphatic bang. + +"Hai!" muttered the gypsy between her teeth. "Hatch till the dood wells +apre," which means: "Wait until the moon rises!" an ominous saying for +Lambert. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE SECRETARY. + + +"Was ever a man in so uncomfortable a position?" + +Lambert asked himself this question as soon as he was safe in his +studio, and he found it a difficult one to answer. It was true that what +he had said to Agnes, and what Agnes had said to him, was perfectly +honest and extremely honorable, considering the state of their feelings. +But the conversation had been overheard by an unscrupulous woman, whose +jealousy would probably twist innocence into guilt. It was certain that +she would go to Pine and give him a garbled version of what had taken +place, in which case the danger was great, both to himself and to Agnes. +Lambert had spoken bravely enough to the marplot, knowing that he had +done no wrong, but now he was by no means sure that he had acted +rightly. Perhaps it would have been better to temporize but that would +have meant a surrender young to Chaldea's unmaidenly wooing. And, as the +man had not a spark of love for her in a heart given entirely to another +woman, he was unwilling even to feign playing the part of a lover. + +On reflection he still held to his resolution to go to London, thinking +that it would be best for him to be out of reach of Agnes while Pine was +in the neighborhood. The news that the millionaire was a gypsy had +astonished him at first; but now that he considered the man's dark +coloring and un-English looks, he quite believed that what Chaldea said +was true. And he could understand also that Pine--or Hearne, since that +was his true name--would occasionally wish to breathe the free air of +heath and road since he had been cradled under a tent, and must at times +feel strongly the longing for the old lawless life. But why should he +revert to his beginnings so near to his brother-in-law's house, where +his wife was staying? "Unless he came to keep an eye on her," murmured +Lambert, and unconsciously hit on the very reason of the pseudo-gypsy's +presence at Garvington. + +After all, it would be best to go to London for a time to wait until +he saw what Chaldea would do. Then he could meet Pine and have an +understanding with him. The very fact that Pine was a Romany, and was on +his native heath, appealed to Lambert as a reason why he should not seek +out the man immediately, as he almost felt inclined to do, in order to +forestall Chaldea's story. As Hearne, the millionaire's wild instincts +would be uppermost, and he would probably not listen to reason, whereas +if the meeting took place in London, Pine would resume to a certain +extent his veneer of civilization and would be more willing to do +justice. + +"Yes," decided Lambert, rising and stretching himself. "I shall go to +London and wait to turn over matters in my own mind. I shall say nothing +to Agnes until I know what is best to be done about Chaldea. Meanwhile, +I shall see the girl and get her to hold her tongue for a time--Damn!" +He frowned. "It's making the best of a dangerous situation, but I don't +see my way to a proper adjustment yet. The most necessary thing is to +gain time." + +With this in his mind he hastily packed a gladstone bag, changed into +tweeds, and told Mrs. Tribb that he was going to London for a day or so. +"I shall get a trap at the inn and drive to the station," he said, as he +halted at the door. "You will receive a wire saying when I shall +return," and leaving the dry little woman, open-mouthed at this sudden +departure, the young man hastened away. + +Instead of going straight to the village, he took a roundabout road to +the camp on the verge of Abbot's Wood. Here he found the vagrants in a +state of great excitement, as Lord Garvington had that afternoon sent +notice by a gamekeeper that they were to leave his land the next day. +Taken up with his own private troubles, Lambert did not pay much +attention to those of the tribe, and looked about for Chaldea. He +finally saw her sitting by one of the fires, in a dejected attitude, +and touched her on the shoulder. At once, like a disturbed animal, she +leaped to her feet. + +"The rye!" said Chaldea, with a gasp, and a hopeful look on her face. + +"Give me three days before you say anything to Pine," said Lambert in a +low voice, and a furtive look round. "You understand." + +"No," said the girl boldly. "Unless you mean--" + +"Never mind what I mean," interrupted the man hastily, for he was +determined not to commit himself. "Will you hold your tongue for three +days?" + +Chaldea looked hard at his face, upon which the red firelight played +brightly, but could not read what was in his mind. However, she thought +that the request showed a sign of yielding, and was a mute confession +that he knew he was in her power. "I give you three days," she murmured. +"But--" + +"I have your promise then, so good-bye," interrupted Lambert abruptly, +and walked away hastily in the direction of Garvington village. His mind +was more or less of a chaos, but at all events he had gained time to +reduce the chaos to some sort of order. Still as yet he could not see +the outcome of the situation and departed swiftly in order to think it +over. + +Chaldea made a step or two, as if to follow, but a reflection that she +could do no good by talking at the moment, and a certainty that she held +him in the hollow of her hand, made her pause. With a hitch of her +shapely shoulders she resumed her seat by the fire, brooding sombrely on +the way in which this Gentile had rejected her love. Bending her black +brows and showing her white teeth like an irritated dog, she inwardly +cursed herself for cherishing so foolish a love. Nevertheless, she did +not try to overcome it, but resolved to force the Gorgio to her feet. +Then she could spurn him if she had a mind to, as he had spurned her. +But she well knew, and confessed it to herself with a sigh, that there +would be no spurning on her part, since her wayward love was stronger +than her pride. + +"Did the Gentile bring the gold, my sister?" asked a harsh voice, and +she raised her head to see Kara's hairy face bent to her ear. + +"No, brother. He goes to Lundra to get the gold. Did I not play my fish +in fine style?" + +"I took it for truth, sister!" said Kara, looking at her searchingly. + +Chaldea nodded wearily. "I am a great witch, as you can see." + +"You will be my romi when the gold chinks in our pockets?" + +"Yes, for certain, brother. It's a true fortune!" + +"Before our camp is changed, sister?" persisted the man greedily. + +"No; for to-morrow we may take the road, since the great lord orders us +off his land. And yet--" Chaldea stood up, suddenly recollecting what +had been said by Pine's wife. "Why should we leave?" + +"The rabbit can't kick dust in the fox's face, sister," said Kara, +meaning that Garvington was too strong for the gypsies. + +"There are rabbits and rabbits," said Chaldea sententiously. "Where is +Hearne, brother?" + +"In Gentilla's tent with a Gorgious gentleman. He's trading a horse with +the swell rye, and wants no meddling with his time, sister." + +"I meddle now," snapped Chaldea, and walked away in her usual free and +graceful manner. Kara shrugged his shoulders and then took refuge in +talking to his violin, to which he related his doubts of the girl's +truth. And he smiled grimly, as he thought of the recovered knife which +was again snugly hidden under his weather-worn green coat. + +Chaldea, who did not stand on ceremony, walked to the end of the camp +without paying any attention to the excited gypsies, and flung back the +flap of the old woman's tent. Mother Cockleshell was not within, as she +had given the use of her abode to Pine and his visitor. This latter was +a small, neat man with a smooth, boyish face and reddish hair. He had +the innocent expression of a fox-terrier, and rather resembled one. He +was neatly and inoffensively dressed in blue serge, and although he did +not look exactly like a gentleman, he would have passed for one in a +crowd. When Chaldea made her abrupt entrance he was talking volubly to +Pine, and the millionaire addressed him--when he answered--as Silver. +Chaldea, remembering the conversation she had overheard between Pine and +Miss Greeby, speedily reached the conclusion that the neat little man +was the secretary referred to therein. Probably he had come to report +about Lady Agnes. + +"What is it, sister?" demanded Pine sharply, and making a sign that +Silver should stop talking. + +"Does the camp travel to-morrow, brother?" + +"Perhaps, yes," retorted Pine abruptly. + +"And perhaps no, brother, if you use your power." + +Silver raised his faint eyebrows and looked questioningly at his +employer, as if to ask what this cryptic sentence meant. Pine knew only +too well, since Chaldea had impressed him thoroughly with the fact that +she had overheard many of his secrets. Therefore he did not waste time +in argument, but nodded quietly. "Sleep in peace, sister. The camp shall +stay, if you wish it." + +"I do wish it!" She glanced at Silver and changed her speech to Romany. +"The ring will be here," tapping her finger, "in one week if we stay." + +"So be it, sister," replied Pine, also in Romany, and with a gleam of +satisfaction in his dark eyes. "Go now and return when this Gentile +goes. What of the golden Gorgious one?" + +"He seeks Lundra this night." + +"For the ring, sister?" + +Chaldea looked hard at him. "For the ring" she said abruptly, then +dropping the tent-flap which she had held all the time, she disappeared. + +Silver looked at his master inquiringly, and noted that he seemed very +satisfied. "What did she say in Romany?" he asked eagerly. + +"True news and new news, and news you never heard of," mocked Pine. +"Don't ask questions, Mark." + +"But since I am your secretary--" + +"You are secretary to Hubert Pine, not to Ishmael Hearne," broke in the +other man. "And when Romany is spoken it concerns the last." + +Silver's pale-colored, red-rimmed eyes twinkled in an evil manner. "You +are afraid that I may learn too much about you." + +"You know all that is to be known," retorted Pine sharply. "But I won't +have you meddle with my Romany business. A Gentile such as you are +cannot understand the chals." + +"Try me." + +"There is no need. You are my secretary--my trusted secretary--that is +quite enough. I pay you well to keep my secrets." + +"I don't keep them because you pay me," said Silver quickly, and with a +look of meekness belied by the sinister gleam in his pale bluish eyes. +"It is devotion that makes me honest. I owe everything to you." + +"I think you do," observed Pine quietly. "When I found you in +Whitechapel you were only a pauper toymaker." + +"An inventor of toys, remember. You made your fortune out of my +inventions." + +"The three clever toys you invented laid the foundations of my wealth," +corrected the millionaire calmly. "But I made my money in the South +African share business. And if I hadn't taken up your toys, you would +have been now struggling in Whitechapel, since there was no one but me +to exploit your brains in the toy-making way. I have rescued you from +starvation; I have made you my secretary, and pay you a good salary, and +I have introduced you to good society. Yes, you do indeed owe everything +to me. Yet--" he paused. + +"Yet what?" + +"Miss Greeby observed that those who have most cause to be grateful are +generally the least thankful to those who befriend them. I am not sure +but what she is right." + +Silver pushed up his lower lip contemptuously, and a derisive expression +came over his clean-shaven face. "Does a clever man like you go to that +emancipated woman for experience?" + +"Emancipated women are usually very clever," said Pine dryly, "as they +combine the logic of the male with the intuition of the female. And I +have observed myself, in many cases, that kindness brings out +ingratitude." + +Silver looked sullen and uneasy. "I don't know why you should talk to me +in this strain," he said irritably. "I appreciate what you have done for +me, and have no reason to treat you badly. If I did--" + +"I would break you," flamed out his employer, angered by the mere +thought. "So long as you serve me well, Silver, I am your friend, and I +shall treat you as I have always done, with every consideration. But you +play any tricks on me, and--" he paused expressively. + +"Oh, I won't betray you, if that's what you mean." + +"I am quite sure you won't," said the millionaire with emphasis. "For if +you do, you return to your original poverty. And remember, Mark, that +there is nothing in my life which has any need of concealment." + +Silver cast a look round the tent and at the rough clothes of the +speaker. "No need of any concealment?" he asked significantly. + +"Certainly not," rejoined Pine violently. "I don't wish my gypsy origin +to be known in the Gentile world. But if the truth did come to light, +there is nothing to be ashamed of. I commit no crime in calling myself +by a Gorgio name and in accumulating a fortune. You have no hold over +me." The man's look was so threatening that Silver winced. + +"I don't hint at any hold over you," he observed mildly. "I am bound to +you both by gratitude and self-interest." + +"Aha. That last is better. It is just as well that we have come to this +understanding. If you--" Pine's speech was ended by a sharp fit of +coughing, and Silver looked at his contortions with a thin-lipped smile. + +"You'll kill yourself if you live this damp colonial sort of tent-life," +was his observation. "Here, take a drink of water." + +Pine did so, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his rough coat. +"You're a Gorgio," he said, weakly, for the fit had shaken him, "and +can't understand how a bred and born Romany longs for the smell of the +smoke, the space of the open country, and the sound of the kalo jib. +However, I did not ask you here to discuss these things, but to take my +instructions." + +"About Lady Agnes?" asked the secretary, his eyes scintillating. + +"You have had those long ago, although, trusting my wife as I do, there +was really no need for me to ask you to watch her." + +"That is very true. Lady Agnes is exceedingly circumspect." + +"Is she happy?" + +Silver lifted his shoulders. "As happy as a woman can be who is married +to one man while she loves another." + +He expected an outburst of anger from his employer, but none came. On +the contrary, Pine sighed, restlessly. "Poor soul. I did her a wrong in +making her my wife. She would have been happier with Lambert in his +poverty." + +"Probably! Her tastes don't lie like those of other women in the +direction of squandering money. By the way, I suppose, since you are +here, that you know Lambert is staying in the Abbot's Wood Cottage?" + +"Yes, I know that. And what of it?" demanded the millionaire sharply. + +"Nothing; only I thought you would like to know. I fancied you had come +here to see if--" + +"I did not. I can trust you to see that my wife and Lambert do not meet +without spying myself." + +"If you love and trust your wife so entirely, I wonder you ask me to spy +on her at all," said Silver with a faint sneer. + +"She is a woman, and we gypsies have sufficient of the Oriental in us to +mistrust even the most honest women. Lambert has not been to The Manor?" + +"No. That's a bad sign. He can't trust himself in her presence." + +"I'll choke the life out of you, rat that you are, if you talk in such a +way about my wife. What you think doesn't matter. Hold your tongue, and +come to business. I asked you here to take my instructions." + +Silver was rather cowed by this outburst, as he was cunning enough to +know precisely how far he could venture with safety. "I am waiting," he +observed in sullen tones. + +"Garvington--as I knew he would--has ordered us off the land. As the +wood is really mine, since I hold it as security, having paid off the +mortgage, I don't choose that he should deal with it as though it were +his own. Here"--he passed along a letter--"I have written that on my +office paper, and you will see that it says, I have heard how gypsies +are camping here, and that it is my wish they should remain. Garvington +is not to order them off on any pretext whatsoever. You understand?" + +"Yes." Silver nodded, and slipped the paper into his breast pocket after +a hasty glance at the contents, which were those the writer had stated. +"But if Garvington wishes to know why you take such an interest in the +gypsies, what am I to say?" + +"Say nothing. Simply do what I have told you." + +"Garvington may suspect that you are a Romany." + +"He won't. He thinks that I'm in Paris, and will never connect me with +Ishmael Hearne. If he asks questions when we meet I can tell him my own +tale. By the way, why is he so anxious to get rid of the tribe?" + +"There have been many burglaries lately in various parts of Hengishire," +explained the secretary. "And Garvington is afraid lest the gypsies +should be mixed up with them. He thinks, this camp being near, some of +the men may break into the house." + +"What nonsense! Gypsies steal, I don't deny, but in an open way. They +are not burglars, however, and never will be. Garvington has never seen +any near The Manor that he should take fright in this way." + +"I am not so sure of that. Once or twice I have seen that girl who came +to you hanging about the house." + +"Chaldea?" Pine started and looked earnestly at his companion. + +"Yes. She told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune one day when she met her in the +park, and also tried to make Lady Agnes cross her hand with silver for +the same purpose. Nothing came of that, however, as your wife refused to +have her fortune told." + +Pine frowned and looked uneasy, remembering that Chaldea knew of his +Gentile masquerading. However, as he could see no reason to suspect that +the girl had betrayed him, since she had nothing to gain by taking such +a course, he passed the particular incident over. "I must tell Chaldea +not to go near The Manor," he muttered. + +"You will be wise; and tell the men also. Garvington has threatened to +shoot any one who tries to enter his house." + +"Garvington's a little fool," said Pine violently. "There is no chance +that the Romany will enter his house. He can set his silly mind at +rest." + +"Well, you're warned," said Silver with an elaborate pretence of +indifference. + +Pine looked up, growling. "What the devil do you mean, Mark? Do you +think that I intend to break in. Fool! A Romany isn't a thief of that +sort." + +"I fancied from tradition that they were thieves of all sorts," retorted +the secretary coolly. "And suppose you took a fancy to come quietly and +see your wife?" + +"I should never do that in this dress," interrupted the millionaire in a +sharp tone. "My wife would then know my true name and birth. I wish to +keep that from her, although there is nothing disgraceful in the secret. +I wonder why you say that?" he said, looking searchingly at the little +man. + +"Only because Lambert is in the--" + +"Lambert! Lambert! You are always harping on Lambert." + +"I have your interest at heart." + +Pine laughed doubtfully. "I am not so sure of that. Self-interest +rather. I trust my wife--" + +"You do, since you make me spy on her," said Silver caustically. + +"I trust my wife so far," pursued the other man, "if you will permit me +to finish my sentence. There is no need for her to see her cousin, +and--as they have kept apart for so long--I don't think there is any +chance of their seeking one another's company." + +"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," remarked the secretary +sententiously. "And you may be living in a fool's paradise. Lambert is +within running-away distance of her, remember." + +Pine laughed in a raucous manner. "An elopement would have taken place +long ago had it been intended," he snapped tartly. "Don't imagine +impossibilities, Mark. Agnes married me for my money, so that I might +save the credit of the Lambert family. But for me, Garvington would have +passed through the Bankruptcy Court long ago. I have paid off certain +mortgages, but I hold them as security for my wife's good behavior. She +knows that an elopement with her cousin would mean the ruin of her +brother." + +"You do, indeed, trust her," observed Silver sarcastically. + +"I trust her so far and no further," repeated Pine with an angry snarl. +"A Gentile she is, and Gentiles are tricky." He stretched out a slim, +brown hand significantly and opened it. "I hold her and Garvington +there," and he tapped the palm lightly. + +"You don't hold Lambert, and he is the dangerous one." + +"Only dangerous if Agnes consents to run away with him, and she won't do +that," replied Pine coolly. + +"Well, she certainly doesn't care for money." + +"She cares for the credit of her family, and gave herself to me, so that +the same might be saved." + +Silver shrugged his narrow shoulders. "What fools these aristocrats +are," he observed pleasantly. "Even if Garvington were sold up he would +still have his title and enough to live on in a quiet way." + +"Probably. But it was not entirely to save his estates that he agreed to +my marriage with his sister," said Pine pointedly and quietly. + +"Eh! What?" The little man's foxy face became alive with eager inquiry. + +"Nothing," said Pine roughly, and rose heavily to his feet. "Mind your +own infernal business, and mine also. Go back and show that letter to +Garvington. I want my tribe to stay here." + +"_My_ tribe," laughed Silver, scrambling to his feet; and when he took +his departure he was still laughing. He wondered what Garvington would +say did he know that his sister was married to a full-blooded Romany. + +Pine, in the character of a horse-coper, saw him out of the camp, and +was staring after him when Chaldea, on the watch, touched his shoulder. + +"I come to your tent, brother," she said with very bright eyes. + +"Eh? Yes!" Pine aroused himself out of a brown study. "Avali, miri pen. +You have things to say to me?" + +"Golden things, which have to do with your happiness and mine, brother." + +"Hai? A wedding-ring, sister." + +"Truly, brother, if you be a true Romany and not the Gentile you call +yourself." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +AT MIDNIGHT. + + +Silver's delivery of his employer's orders to Lord Garvington were +apparently carried out, for no further intimation was given to the +gypsies that they were to vacate Abbot's Wood. The master of The Manor +grumbled a good deal at the high tone taken by his brother-in-law, as, +having the instincts of a landlord, he strongly objected to the presence +of such riff-raff on his estates. However, as Pine had the whip-hand of +him, he was obliged to yield, although he could not understand why the +man should favor the Romany in this way. + +"Some of his infernal philanthropy, I suppose," said Garvington, in a +tone of disgust, to the secretary. "Pine's always doing this sort of +thing, and people ain't a bit grateful." + +"Well," said Silver dryly, "I suppose that's his look-out." + +"If it is, let him keep to his own side of the road," retorted the +other. "Since I don't interfere with his business, let him not meddle +with mine." + +"As he holds the mortgage and can foreclose at any moment, it _is_ his +business," insisted Silver tartly. "And, after all, the gypsies are +doing no very great harm." + +"They will if they get the chance. I'd string up the whole lot if I had +my way, Silver. Poachers and blackguards every one of them. I know that +Pine is always helping rotters in London, but I didn't know that he had +any cause to interfere with this lot. How did he come to know about +them?" + +"Well, Mr. Lambert might have told him," answered the secretary, not +unwilling to draw that young man into the trouble. "He is at Abbot's +Wood." + +"Yes, I lent him the cottage, and this is my reward. He meddles with my +business along with Pine. Why can't he shut his mouth?" + +"I don't say that Mr. Lambert did tell him, but he might have done so." + +"I am quite sure that he did," said Garvington emphatically, and growing +red all over his chubby face. "Otherwise Pine would never have heard, +since he is in Paris. I shall speak to Lambert." + +"You won't find him at home. I looked in at his cottage to pass the +time, and his housekeeper said that he had gone to London all of a +sudden, this very evening." + +"Oh, he'll turn up again," said Garvington carelessly. "He's sick of +town, Silver, since--" The little man hesitated. + +"Since when?" asked the secretary curiously. + +"Never mind," retorted the other gruffly, for he did not wish to mention +the enforced marriage of his sister, to Silver. Of course, there was no +need to, as Garvington, aware that the neat, foxy-faced man was his +brother-in-law's confidential adviser, felt sure that everything was +known to him. "I'll leave those blamed gypsies alone meanwhile," +finished Garvington, changing and finishing the conversation. "But I'll +speak to Pine when I see him." + +"He returns from Paris in three weeks," remarked Silver, at which +information the gross little lord simply hunched his fat shoulders. Much +as Pine had done for him, Garvington hated the man with all the power of +his mean and narrow mind, and as the millionaire returned this dislike +with a feeling of profound contempt, the two met as seldom as possible. +Only Lady Agnes was the link between them, the visible object of sale +and barter, which had been sold by one to the other. + +It was about this time that the house-party at The Manor began to break +up; since it was now the first week in September, and many of the +shooters wished to go north for better sport. Many of the men departed, +and some of the women, who were due at other country houses; but Mrs. +Belgrove and Miss Greeby still remained. The first because she found +herself extremely comfortable, and appreciated Garvington's cook; and +the second on account of Lambert being in the vicinity. Miss Greeby had +been very disappointed to learn that the young man had gone to London, +but heard from Mrs. Tribb that he was expected back in three days. She +therefore lingered so as to have another conversation with him, and +meanwhile haunted the gypsy camp for the purpose of keeping an eye on +Chaldea, who was much too beautiful for her peace of mind. Sometimes +Silver accompanied her, as the lady had given him to understand that she +knew Pine's real rank and name, so the two were made free of the +Bohemians and frequently chatted with Ishmael Hearne. But they kept his +secret, as did Chaldea; and Garvington had no idea that the man he +dreaded and hated--who flung money to him as if he were tossing a bone +to a dog--was within speaking distance. If he had known, he would +assuredly have guessed the reason why Sir Hubert Pine had interested +himself in the doings of a wandering tribe of undesirable creatures. + +A week passed away and still, although Miss Greeby made daily inquiries, +Lambert did not put in an appearance at the forest cottage. Thinking +that he had departed to escape her, she made up her impatient mind to +repair to London, and to hunt him up at his club. With this idea she +intimated to Lady Garvington that she was leaving The Manor early next +morning. The ladies had just left the dinner-table, and were having +coffee in the drawing-room when Miss Greeby made this abrupt +announcement. + +"Oh, my dear," said Lady Garvington, in dismay. "I wish you would change +your mind. Nearly everyone has gone, and the house is getting quite +dull." + +"Thanks ever so much," remarked Mrs. Belgrove lightly. She sat near the +fire, for the evening was chilly, and what with paint and powder, and +hair-dye, to say nothing of her artistic and carefully chosen dress, +looked barely thirty-five in the rosy lights cast by the shaded lamps. + +"I don't mean you, dear," murmured the hostess, who was even more untidy +and helpless than usual. "You are quite a host in yourself. And that +recipe you gave me for Patagonian soup kept Garvington in quite a good +humor for ever so long. But the house will be dull for you without +Clara." + +"Agnes is here, Jane." + +"I fear Agnes is not much of an entertainer," said that lady, smiling in +a weary manner, for this society chatter bored her greatly. + +"That's not to be wondered at," struck in Miss Greeby abruptly. "For of +course you are thinking of your husband." + +Lady Agnes colored slightly under Miss Greeby's very direct gaze, but +replied equably enough, to save appearances, "He is still in Paris." + +"When did you last hear from him, dear?" questioned Lady Garvington, +more to manufacture conversation than because she really cared. + +"Only to-day I had a letter. He is carrying out some special business +and will return in two or three weeks." + +"You will be glad to see him, no doubt," sneered Miss Greeby. + +"I am always glad to see my husband and to be with him," answered Lady +Agnes in a dignified manner. She knew perfectly well that Miss Greeby +hated her, and guessed the reason, but she was not going to give her any +satisfaction by revealing the true feelings of her heart. + +"Well, I intend to stay here, Jane, if it's all the same to you," cried +Mrs. Belgrove in her liveliest manner and with a side glance, taking in +both Miss Greeby and Lady Agnes. "Only this morning I received a +chit-chat letter from Mr. Lambert--we are great friends you know--saying +that he intended to come here for a few days. Such a delightful man he +is." + +"Oh, dear me, yes," cried Lady Garvington, starting. "I remember. He +wrote yesterday from London, asking if he might come. I told him yes, +although I mentioned that we had hardly anyone with us just now." + +Miss Greeby looked greatly annoyed, as Mrs. Belgrove maliciously saw, +for she knew well that the heiress would now regret having so hastily +intimated her approaching departure. What was the expression on Lady +Agnes's face, the old lady could not see, for the millionaire's wife +shielded it--presumably from the fire--with a large fan of white +feathers. Had Mrs. Belgrove been able to read that countenance she would +have seen satisfaction written thereon, and would probably have set down +the expression to a wrong cause. In reality, Agnes was glad to think +that Lambert's promise was being kept, and that he no longer intended to +avoid her company so openly. + +But if she was pleased, Miss Greeby was not, and still continued to look +annoyed, since she had burnt her boats by announcing her departure. And +what annoyed her still more than her hasty decision was, that she would +leave Lambert in the house along with the rival she most dreaded. Though +what the young man could see in this pale, washed-out creature Miss +Greeby could not imagine. She glanced at a near mirror and saw her own +opulent, full-blown looks clothed in a pale-blue dinner-gown, which went +so well--as she inartistically decided, with her ruddy locks, Mrs. +Belgrove considered that Miss Greeby looked like a paint-box, or a +sunset, or one of Turner's most vivid pictures, but the heiress was very +well pleased with herself. Lady Agnes, in her favorite white, with her +pale face and serious looks, was but a dull person of the nun +persuasion. And Miss Greeby did not think that Lambert cared for nuns, +when he had an Amazonian intelligent pal--so she put it--at hand. But, +of course, he might prefer dark beauties like Chaldea. Poor Miss Greeby; +she was pursuing her wooing under very great difficulties, and became +silent in order to think out some way of revoking in some natural +manner the information of her departure. + +There were other women in the room, who joined in the conversation, and +all were glad to hear that Mr. Lambert intended to pay a visit to his +cousin, for, indeed, the young man was a general favorite. And then as +two or three decided--Mrs. Belgrove amongst the number--there really +could be nothing in the report that he loved Lady Agnes still, else he +would scarcely come and stay where she was. As for Pine's wife, she was +a washed-out creature, who had never really loved her cousin as people +had thought. And after all, why should she, since he was so poor, +especially when she was married to a millionaire with the looks of an +Eastern prince, and manners of quite an original nature, although these +were not quite conventional. Oh, yes, there was nothing in the scandal +that said Garvington had sold his sister to bolster up the family +property. Lady Agnes was quite happy, and her husband was a dear man, +who left her a great deal to her own devices--which he wouldn't have +done had he suspected the cousin; and who gave her pots of money to +spend. And what more could a sensible woman want? + +In this way those in the drawing-room babbled, while Agnes stared into +the fire, bracing herself to encounter Lambert, who would surely arrive +within the next two or three days, and while Miss Greeby savagely +rebuked herself for having so foolishly intimated her departure. Then +the men straggled in from their wine, and bridge became the order of the +night with some, while others begged for music. After a song or so and +the execution of a Beethoven sonata, to which no one paid any attention, +a young lady gave a dance after the manner of Maud Allan, to which +everyone attended. Then came feats of strength, in which Miss Greeby +proved herself to be a female Sandow, and later a number of the guests +sojourned to the billiard-room to play. When they grew weary of that, +tobogganing down the broad staircase on trays was suggested and indulged +in amidst shrieks of laughter. Afterwards, those heated by this +horse-play strayed on to the terrace to breathe the fresh air, and flirt +in the moonlight. In fact, every conceivable way of passing the time was +taken advantage of by these very bored people, who scarcely knew how to +get through the long evening. + +"They seem to be enjoying themselves, Freddy," said Lady Garvington to +her husband, when she drifted against him in the course of attending to +her guests. "I really think they find this jolly." + +"I don't care a red copper what they find," retorted the little man, who +was looking worried, and not quite his usual self. "I wish the whole lot +would get out of the house. I'm sick of them." + +"Ain't you well, Freddy? I knew that Patagonian soup was too rich for +you." + +"Oh, the soup was all right--ripping soup," snorted Freddy, smacking his +lips over the recollection. "But I'm bothered over Pine." + +"He isn't ill, is he?" questioned Lady Garvington anxiously. She liked +her brother-in-law, who was always kind to her. + +"No, hang him; nothing worse than his usual lung trouble, I suppose. But +he is in Paris, and won't answer my letters." + +"Letters, Freddy dear." + +"Yes, Jane dear," he mocked. "Hang it, I want money, and he won't stump +up. I can't even get an answer." + +"Speak to Mr. Silver." + +"Damn Mr. Silver!" + +"Well, I'm sure, Frederick, you needn't swear at me," said poor, wan +Lady Garvington, drawing herself up. "Mr. Silver is very kind. He went +to that gypsy camp and found out how they cook hedgehog. That will be a +new dish for you, dear. You haven't eaten hedgehog." + +"No. And what's more, I don't intend to eat it. But you may as well tell +me how these gypsies cook it," and Freddy listened with both his red +ears to the description, on hearing which he decided that his wife +might instruct the cook how to prepare the animal. "But no one will eat +it but me." + +Lady Garvington shuddered. "I shan't touch it myself. Those horrid +snails you insisted on being cooked a week ago made me quite ill. You +are always trying new experiments, Freddy." + +"Because I get so tired of every-day dishes," growled Lord Garvington. +"These cooks have no invention. I wish I'd lived in Rome when they had +those banquets you read of in Gibbon." + +"Did he write a book on cookery?" asked Lady Garvington very naturally. + +"No. He turned out a lot of dull stuff about wars and migrations of +tribes: you are silly, Jane." + +"What's that about migration of tribes?" asked Mrs. Belgrove, who was in +a good humor, as she had won largely at bridge. "You don't mean those +dear gypsies at Abbot's Wood do you, Lord Garvington? I met one of them +the other day--quite a girl and very pretty in a dark way. She told my +fortune, and said that I would come in for a lot of money. I'm sure I +hope so," sighed Mrs. Belgrove. "Celestine is so expensive, but no one +can fit me like she can. And she knows it, and takes advantage, the +horrid creature." + +"I wish the tribe of gypsies would clear out," snapped Freddy, standing +before the fire and glaring at the company generally. "I know they'll +break in here and rob." + +"Well," drawled Silver, who was hovering near, dressed so carefully that +he looked more of a foxy, neat bounder than ever. "I have noticed that +some of the brutes have been sneaking round the place." + +Mrs. Belgrove shrieked. "Oh, how lucky I occupy a bedroom on the third +floor. Just like a little bird in its tiny-weeny nest. They can't get at +me there, can they, Lord Garvington?" + +"They don't want you," observed Miss Greeby in her deep voice. "It's +your diamonds they'd like to get." + +"Oh!" Mrs. Belgrove shrieked again. "Lock my diamonds up in your strong +room, Lord Garvington. Do! do! do! To please poor little me," and she +effusively clasped her lean hands, upon which many of the said diamonds +glittered. + +"I don't think there is likely to be any trouble with these poor +gypsies, Mrs. Belgrove," remarked Lady Agnes negligently. "Hubert has +told me a great deal about them, and they are really not so bad as +people make out." + +"Your husband can't know anything of such ragtags," said Miss Greeby, +looking at the beautiful, pale face, and wondering if she really had any +suspicion that Pine was one of the crew she mentioned. + +"Oh, but Hubert does," answered Lady Agnes innocently. "He has met many +of them when he has been out helping people. You have no idea, any of +you, how good Hubert is," she added, addressing the company generally. +"He walks on the Embankment sometimes on winter nights and gives the +poor creatures money. And in the country I have often seen him stop to +hand a shilling to some tramp in the lanes." + +"A gypsy for choice," growled Miss Greeby, marvelling that Lady Agnes +could not see the resemblance between the tramps' faces and that of her +own husband. "However, I hope Pine's darlings won't come here to rob. +I'll fight for my jewels, I can promise you." + +One of the men laughed. "I shouldn't like to get a blow from your fist." + +Miss Greeby smiled grimly, and looked at his puny stature. "Women have +to protect themselves from men like you," she said, amidst great +laughter, for the physical difference between her and the man was quite +amusing. + +"It's all very well talking," said Garvington crossly. "But I don't +trust these gypsies." + +"Why don't you clear them off your land then?" asked Silver daringly. + +Garvington glared until his gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his red +face. "I'll clear everyone to bed, that's what I'll do," he retorted, +crossing the room to the middle French window of the drawing-room. "I +wish you fellows would stop your larking out there," he cried. "It's +close upon midnight, and all decent people should be in bed." + +"Since when have you joined the Methodists, Garvington?" asked an +officer who had come over from some twelve-mile distant barracks to pass +the night, and a girl behind him began to sing a hymn. + +Lady Agnes frowned. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Miss Ardale," she +said in sharp rebuke, and the girl had the sense to be silent, while +Garvington fussed over the closing of the window shutters. + +"Going to stand a siege?" asked Miss Greeby, laughing. "Or do you expect +burglars, particularly on this night." + +"I don't expect them at all," retorted the little man. "But I tell you I +hate the idea of these lawless gypsies about the place. Still, if anyone +comes," he added grimly, "I shall shoot." + +"Then the attacking person or party needn't bother," cried the officer. +"I shouldn't mind standing up to your fire, myself, Garvington." + +With laughter and chatter and much merriment at the host's expense, the +guests went their several ways, the women to chat in one another's +dressing-rooms and the men to have a final smoke and a final drink. +Garvington, with two footmen, and his butler, went round the house, +carefully closing all the shutters, and seeing that all was safe. His +sister rather marvelled at this excessive precaution, and said as much +to her hostess. + +"It wouldn't matter if the gypsies did break in," she said when alone +with Lady Garvington in her own bedroom. "It would be some excitement, +for all these people must find it very dull here." + +"I'm sure I do my best, Agnes," said the sister-in-law plaintively. + +"Of course, you do, you poor dear," said the other, kissing her. "But +Garvington always asks people here who haven't two ideas. A horrid, +rowdy lot they are. I wonder you stand it." + +"Garvington asks those he likes, Agnes." + +"I see. He hasn't any brains, and his guests suit him for the same +reason." + +"They eat a great deal," wailed Lady Garvington. "I'm sure I might as +well be a cook. All my time is taken up with feeding them." + +"Well, Freddy married you, Jane, because you had a genius for looking +after food. Your mother was much the same; she always kept a good +table." Lady Agnes laughed. "Yours was a most original wooing, Jane." + +"I'd like to live on bread and water for my part, Agnes." + +"Put Freddy on it, dear. He's getting too stout. I never thought that +gluttony was a crime. But when I look at Freddy"--checking her speech, +she spread out her hands with an ineffable look--"I'm glad that Noel is +coming," she ended, rather daringly. "At least he will be more +interesting than any of these frivolous people you have collected." + +Lady Garvington looked at her anxiously. "You don't mind Noel coming?" + +"No, dear. Why should I?" + +"Well you see, Agnes, I fancied--" + +"Don't fancy anything. Noel and I entirely understand one another." + +"I hope," blurted out the other woman, "that it is a right +understanding?" + +Agnes winced, and looked at her with enforced composure. "I am devoted +to my husband," she said, with emphasis. "And I have every reason to be. +He has kept his part of the bargain, so I keep mine. But," she added +with a pale smile, "when I think how I sold myself to keep up the credit +of the family, and now see Freddy entertaining this riff-raff, I am +sorry that I did not marry Noel, whom I loved so dearly." + +"That would have meant our ruin," bleated Lady Garvington, sadly. + +"Your ruin is only delayed, Jane. Freddy is a weak, self-indulgent fool, +and is eating his way into the next world. It will be a happy day for +you when an apoplectic fit makes you a widow." + +"My dear," the wife was shocked, "he is your brother." + +"More's the pity. I have no illusions about Freddy, Jane, and I don't +think you have either. Now, go away and sleep. It's no use lying awake +thinking over to-morrow's dinner. Give Freddy the bread and water you +talked about." + +Lady Garvington laughed in a weak, aimless way, and then kissed her +sister-in-law with a sigh, after which she drifted out of the room in +her usual vague manner. Very shortly the clock over the stables struck +midnight, and by that time Garvington the virtuous had induced all his +men guests to go to bed. The women chatted a little longer, and then, in +their turn, sought repose. By half-past twelve the great house was in +complete darkness, and bulked a mighty mass of darkness in the pale +September moonlight. + +Lady Agnes got to bed quickly, and tired out by the boredom of the +evening, quickly fell asleep. Suddenly she awoke with all her senses on +the alert, and with a sense of vague danger hovering round. There were +sounds of running feet and indistinct oaths and distant cries, and she +could have sworn that a pistol-shot had startled her from slumber. In a +moment she was out of bed and ran to open her window. On looking out +she saw that the moonlight was very brilliant, and in it beheld a tall +man running swiftly from the house. He sped down the broad path, and +just when he was abreast of a miniature shrubbery, she heard a second +shot, which seemed to be fired there-from. The man staggered, and +stumbled and fell. Immediately afterwards, her brother--she recognized +his voice raised in anger--ran out of the house, followed by some of the +male guests. Terrified by the sight and the sound of the shots, Lady +Agnes huddled on her dressing-gown hastily, and thrust her bare feet +into slippers. The next moment she was out of her bedroom and down the +stairs. A wild idea had entered her mind that perhaps Lambert had come +secretly to The Manor, and had been shot by Garvington in mistake for a +burglar. The corridors and the hall were filled with guests more or less +lightly attired, mostly women, white-faced and startled. Agnes paid no +attention to their shrieks, but hurried into the side passage which +terminated at the door out of which her brother had left the house. She +went outside also and made for the group round the fallen man. + +"What is it? who is it?" she asked, gasping with the hurry and the +fright. + +"Go back, Agnes, go back," cried Garvington, looking up with a distorted +face, strangely pale in the moonlight. + +"But who is it? who has been killed?" She caught sight of the fallen +man's countenance and shrieked. "Great heavens! it is Hubert; is he +dead?" + +"Yes," said Silver, who stood at her elbow. "Shot through the heart." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +AFTERWARDS. + + +With amazing and sinister rapidity the news spread that a burglar had +been shot dead while trying to raid The Manor. First, the Garvington +villagers learned it; then it became the common property of the +neighborhood, until it finally reached the nearest county town, and thus +brought the police on the scene. Lord Garvington was not pleased when +the local inspector arrived, and intimated as much in a somewhat +unpleasant fashion. He was never a man who spared those in an inferior +social position. + +"It is no use your coming over, Darby," he said bluntly to the +red-haired police officer, who was of Irish extraction. "I have sent to +Scotland Yard." + +"All in good time, my lord," replied the inspector coolly. "As the +murder has taken place in my district I have to look into the matter, +and report to the London authorities, if it should be necessary." + +"What right have you to class the affair as a murder?" inquired +Garvington. + +"I only go by the rumors I have heard, my lord. Some say that you winged +the man and broke his right arm. Others tell me that a second shot was +fired in the garden, and it was that which killed Ishmael Hearne." + +"It is true, Darby. I only fired the first shot, as those who were with +me will tell you. I don't know who shot in the garden, and apparently no +one else does. It was this unknown individual in the garden that killed +Hearne. By the way, how did you come to hear the name?" + +"Half a dozen people have told me, my lord, along with the information I +have just given you. Nothing else is talked of far and wide." + +"And it is just twelve o'clock," muttered the stout little lord, wiping +his scarlet face pettishly. "Ill news travels fast. However, as you are +here, you may as well take charge of things until the London men +arrive." + +"The London men aren't going to usurp my privileges, my lord," said +Darby, firmly. "There's no sense in taking matters out of my hands. And +if you will pardon my saying so, I should have been sent for in the +first instance." + +"I daresay," snapped Garvington, coolly. "But the matter is too +important to be left in the hands of a local policeman." + +Darby was nettled, and his hard eyes grew angry. "I am quite competent +to deal with any murder, even if it is that of the highest in England, +much less with the death of a common gypsy." + +"That's just where it is, Darby. The common gypsy who has been shot +happens to be my brother-in-law." + +"Sir Hubert Pine?" questioned the inspector, thoroughly taken aback. + +"Yes! Of course I didn't know him when I fired, or I should not have +done so, Darby. I understood, and his wife, my sister, understood, that +Sir Hubert was in Paris. It passes my comprehension to guess why he +should have come in the dead of night, dressed as a gypsy, to raid my +house." + +"Perhaps it was a bet," said Darby, desperately puzzled. + +"Bet, be hanged! Pine could come openly to this place whenever he liked. +I never was so astonished in my life as when I saw him lying dead near +the shrubbery. And the worst of it is, that my sister ran out and saw +him also. She fainted and has been in bed ever since, attended by Lady +Garvington." + +"You had no idea that the man you shot was Sir Hubert, my lord?" + +"Hang it, no! Would I have shot him had I guessed who he was?" + +"No, no, my lord! of course not," said the officer hastily. "But as +I have come to take charge of the case, you will give me a detailed +account of what has taken place." + +"I would rather wait until the Scotland Yard fellows come," grumbled +Garvington, "as I don't wish to repeat my story twice. Still, as you are +on the spot, I may as well ask your advice. You may be able to throw +some light on the subject. I'm hanged if I can." + +Darby pulled out his notebook. "I am all attention, my lord." + +Garvington plunged abruptly into his account, first having looked to see +if the library door was firmly closed. "As there have been many +burglaries lately in this part of the world," he said, speaking with +deliberation, "I got an idea into my head that this house might be +broken into." + +"Natural enough, my lord," interposed Darby, glancing round the splendid +room. "A historic house such as this is, would tempt any burglar." + +"So I thought," remarked the other, pleased that Darby should agree with +him so promptly. "And I declared several times, within the hearing of +many people, that if a raid was made, I should shoot the first man who +tried to enter. Hang it, an Englishman's house is his castle, and no man +has a right to come in without permission." + +"Quite so, my lord. But the punishment of the burglar should be left to +the law," said the inspector softly. + +"Oh, the deuce take the law! I prefer to execute my own punishments. +However, to make a long story short, I grew more afraid of a raid when +these gypsies came to camp at Abbot's Wood, as they are just the sort of +scoundrels who would break in and steal." + +"Why didn't you order them off your land?" asked the policeman, alertly. + +"I did, and then my brother-in-law sent a message through his secretary, +who is staying here, asking me to allow them to remain. I did." + +"Why did Sir Hubert send that message, my lord?" + +"Hang it, man, that's just what I am trying to learn, and I am the more +puzzled because he came last night dressed as a gypsy." + +"He must be one," said Darby, who had seen Pine and now recalled his +dark complexion and jetty eyes. "It seems, from what I have been told, +that he stopped at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael +Hearne." + +"So Silver informed me." + +"Who is he?" + +"Pine's secretary, who knows all his confidential affairs. Silver +declared, when the secret could be kept no longer, that Pine was really +a gypsy, called Ishmael Hearne. Occasionally longing for the old life, +he stepped down from his millionaire pedestal and mixed with his own +people. When he was supposed to be in Paris, he was really with the +gypsies, so you can now understand why he sent the message asking me to +let these vagrants stay." + +"You told me a few moments ago, that you could not understand that +message, my lord," said Darby quickly, and looking searchingly at the +other man. Garvington grew a trifle confused. "Did I? Well, to tell you +the truth, Darby, I'm so mixed up over the business that I can't say +what I do know, or what I don't know. You'd better take all I tell you +with a grain of salt until I am quite myself again." + +"Natural enough, my lord," remarked the inspector again, and quite +believed what he said. "And the details of the murder?" + +"I went to bed as usual," said Garvington, wearily, for the events of +the night had tired him out, "and everyone else retired some time about +midnight. I went round with the footmen and the butler to see that +everything was safe, for I was too anxious to let them look after things +without me. Then I heard a noise of footsteps on the gravel outside, +just as I was dropping off to sleep--" + +"About what time was that, my lord?" + +"Half-past one o'clock; I can't be certain as to a minute. I jumped up +and laid hold of my revolver, which was handy. I always kept it beside +me in case of a burglary. Then I stole downstairs in slippers and +pajamas to the passage,--oh, here." Garvington rose quickly. "Come with +me and see the place for yourself!" + +Inspector Darby put on his cap, and with his notebook still in his hand, +followed the stout figure of his guide. Garvington led him through the +entrance hall and into a side-passage, which terminated in a narrow +door. There was no one to spy on them, as the master of the house had +sent all the servants to their own quarters, and the guests were +collected in the drawing-room and smoking-room, although a few of the +ladies remained in their bedrooms, trying to recover from the night's +experience. + +"I came down here," said Garvington, opening the door, "and heard the +burglar, as I thought he was, prowling about on the other side. I threw +open the door in this way and the man plunged forward to enter. I fired, +and got him in the right arm, for I saw it swinging uselessly by his +side as he departed." + +"Was he in a hurry?" asked Darby, rather needlessly. + +"He went off like greased lightning. I didn't follow, as I thought that +others of his gang might be about, but closing the door again I shouted +blue murder. In a few minutes everyone came down, and while I was +waiting--it all passed in a flash, remember, Darby--I heard a second +shot. Then the servants and my friends came and we ran out, to find the +man lying by that shrubbery quite dead. I turned him over and had just +grasped the fact that he was my brother-in-law, when Lady Agnes ran out. +When she learned the news she naturally fainted. The women carried her +back to her room, and we took the body of Pine into the house. A doctor +came along this morning--for I sent for a doctor as soon as it was +dawn--and said that Pine had been shot through the heart." + +"And who shot him?" asked Darby sagely. + +Garvington pointed to the shrubbery. "Someone was concealed there," he +declared. + +"How do you know, that, my lord?" + +"My sister, attracted by my shot, jumped out of bed and threw up her +window. She saw the man--of course she never guessed that he was +Pine--running down the path and saw him fall by the shrubbery when the +second shot was fired." + +"Her bedroom is then on this side of the house, my lord?" + +"Up there," said Garvington, pointing directly over the narrow door, +which was painted a rich blue color, and looked rather bizarre, set in +the puritanic greyness of the walls. "My own bedroom is further along +towards the right. That is why I heard the footsteps so plainly on this +gravel." And he stamped hard, while with a wave of his hand he invited +the inspector to examine the surroundings. + +Darby did so with keen eyes and an alert brain. The two stood on the +west side of the mansion, where it fronted the three-miles distant +Abbot's Wood. The Manor was a heterogeneous-looking sort of place, +suggesting the whims and fancies of many generations, for something was +taken away here, and something was taken away there, and this had been +altered, while that had been left in its original state, until the house +seemed to be made up of all possible architectural styles. It was a tall +building of three stories, although the flattish red-tiled roofs took +away somewhat from its height, and spread over an amazing quantity of +land. As Darby thought, it could have housed a regiment, and must have +cost something to keep up. As wind and weather and time had mellowed its +incongruous parts into one neutral tint, it looked odd and attractive. +Moss and lichen, ivy and Virginia creeper--this last flaring in crimson +glory--clothed the massive stone walls with a gracious mantle of natural +beauty. Narrow stone steps, rather chipped, led down from the blue door +to the broad, yellow path, which came round the rear of the house and +swept down hill in a wide curve, past the miniature shrubbery, right +into the bosom of the park. + +"This path," explained Garvington, stamping again, "runs right through +the park to a small wicket gate set in the brick wall, which borders the +high road, Darby." + +"And that runs straightly past Abbot's Wood," mused the inspector. "Of +course, Sir Hubert would know of the path and the wicket gate?" + +"Certainly; don't be an ass, Darby," cried Garvington petulantly. "He +has been in this house dozens of times and knows it as well as I do +myself. Why do you ask so obvious a question?" + +"I was only wondering if Sir Hubert came by the high road to the wicket +gate you speak of, Lord Garvington." + +"That also is obvious," retorted the other, irritably. "Since he wished +to come here, he naturally would take the easiest way." + +"Then why did he not enter by the main avenue gates?" + +"Because at that hour they would be shut, and--since it is evident that +his visit was a secret one--he would have had to knock up the +lodge-keeper." + +"Why was his visit a secret one?" questioned Darby pointedly. + +"That is the thing that puzzles me. Anything more?" + +"Yes? Why should Sir Hubert come to the blue door?" + +"I can't answer that question, either. The whole reason of his being +here, instead of in Paris, is a mystery to me." + +"Oh, as to that last, the reply is easy," remarked the inspector. "Sir +Hubert wished to revert to his free gypsy life, and pretended to be in +Paris, so that he would follow his fancy without the truth becoming +known. But why he should come on this particular night, and by this +particular path to this particular door, is the problem I have to +solve!" + +"Quite so, and I only hope that you will solve it, for the sake of my +sister." + +Darby reflected for a moment or so. "Did Lady Agnes ask her husband to +come here to see her privately?" + +"Hang it, no man!" cried Garvington, aghast. "She believed, as we all +did, that her husband was in Paris, and certainly never dreamed that he +was masquerading as a gypsy three miles away." + +"There was no masquerading about the matter, my lord," said Darby, +dryly; "since Sir Hubert really was a gypsy called Ishmael Hearne. That +fact will come out at the inquest." + +"It has come out now: everyone knows the truth. And a nice thing it is +for me and Lady Agnes." + +"I don't think you need worry about that, Lord Garvington. The honorable +way in which the late Sir Hubert attained rank and gained wealth will +reflect credit on his humble origin. When the papers learn the story--" + +"Confound the papers!" interrupted Garvington fretfully. "I sincerely +hope that they won't make too great a fuss over the business." + +The little man's hope was vain, as he might have guessed that it would +be, for when the news became known in Fleet Street, the newspapers were +only too glad to discover an original sensation for the dead season. +Every day journalists and special correspondents were sent down in such +numbers that the platform of Wanbury Railway Station was crowded with +them. As the town--it was the chief town of Hengishire--was five miles +away from the village of Garvington, every possible kind of vehicle was +used to reach the scene of the crime, and The Manor became a rendezvous +for all the morbid people, both in the neighborhood and out of it. The +reporters in particular poked and pried all over the place, passing from +the great house to the village, and thence to the gypsy camp on the +borders of Abbot's Wood. From one person and another they learned facts, +which were published with such fanciful additions that they read like +fiction. On the authority of Mother Cockleshell--who was not averse to +earning a few shillings--a kind of Gil Blas tale was put into print, and +the wanderings of Ishmael Hearne were set forth in the picturesque style +of a picarooning romance. But of the time when the adventurous gypsy +assumed his Gentile name, the Romany could tell nothing, for obvious +reasons. Until the truth became known, because of the man's tragic and +unforeseen death, those in the camp were not aware that he was a Gorgio +millionaire. But where the story of Mother Cockleshell left off, that of +Mark Silver began, for the secretary had been connected with his +employer almost from the days of Hearne's first exploits as Pine in +London. And Silver--who also charged for the blended fact and fiction +which he supplied--freely related all he knew. + +"Hearne came to London and called himself Hubert Pine," he stated +frankly, and not hesitating to confess his own lowly origin. "We met +when I was starving as a toymaker in Whitechapel. I invented some penny +toys, which Pine put on the market for me. They were successful and he +made money. I am bound to confess that he paid me tolerably well, +although he certainly took the lion's share. With the money he made in +this way, he speculated in South African shares, and, as the boom was +then on, he simply coined gold. Everything he touched turned into cash, +and however deeply he plunged into the money market, he always came out +top in the end. By turning over his money and re-investing it, and by +fresh speculations, he became a millionaire in a wonderfully short space +of time. Then he made me his secretary and afterwards took up politics. +The Government gave him a knighthood for services rendered to his party, +and he became a well-known figure in the world of finance. He married +Lady Agnes Lambert, and--and--that's all." + +"You were aware that he was a gypsy, Mr. Silver?" asked the reporter. + +"Oh, yes. I knew all about his origin from the first days of our +acquaintanceship. He asked me to keep his true name and rank secret. As +it was none of my business, I did so. At times Hearne--or rather Pine, +as I know him best by that name--grew weary of civilization, and then +would return to his own life of the tent and road. No one suspected +amongst the Romany that he was anything else but a horse-coper. He +always pretended to be in Paris, or Berlin, on financial affairs, when +he went back to his people, and I transacted all business during his +absence." + +"You knew that he was at the Abbot's Wood camp?" + +"Certainly. I saw him there once or twice to receive instructions about +business. I expostulated with him for being so near the house where his +brother-in-law and wife were living, as I pointed out that the truth +might easily become known. But Pine merely said that his safety in +keeping his secret lay in his daring to run the risk." + +"Have you any idea that Sir Hubert intended to come by night to Lord +Garvington's house?" + +"Not the slightest. In fact, I told him that Lord Garvington was afraid +of burglars, and had threatened to shoot any man who tried to enter the +house." + +All this Silver said in a perfectly frank, free-and-easy manner, and +also related how the dead man had instructed him to ask Garvington to +allow the gypsies to remain in the wood. The reporter published the +interview with sundry comments of his own, and it was read with great +avidity by the public at large and by the many friends of the +millionaire, who were surprised to learn of the double life led by the +man. Of course, there was nothing disgraceful in Pine's past as Ishmael +Hearne, and all attempts to discover something shady about his +antecedents were vain. Yet--as was pointed out--there must have been +something wrong, else the adventurer, as he plainly was, would not have +met so terrible a death. But in spite of every one's desire to find fire +to account for the smoke, nothing to Pine's disadvantage could be +learned. Even at the inquest, and when the matter was thoroughly +threshed out, the dead man's character proved to be honorable, and--save +in the innocent concealment of his real name and origin--his public and +private life was all that could be desired. The whole story was not +criminal, but truly romantic, and the final tragedy gave a grim touch to +what was regarded, even by the most censorious, as a picturesque +narrative. + +In spite of all his efforts, Inspector Darby, of Wanbury, could produce +no evidence likely to show who had shot the deceased. Lord Garvington, +under the natural impression that Pine was a burglar, had certainly +wounded him in the right arm, but it was the second shot, fired by some +one outside the house, which had pierced the heart. This was positively +proved by the distinct evidence of Lady Agnes herself. She rose from her +sick-bed to depose how she had opened her window, and had seen the +actual death of the unfortunate man, whom she little guessed was her +husband. The burglar--as she reasonably took him to be--was running down +the path when she first caught sight of him, and after the first shot +had been fired. It was the second shot, which came from the +shrubbery--marked on the plan placed before the Coroner and jury--which +had laid the fugitive low. Also various guests and servants stated that +they had arrived in the passage in answer to Lord Garvington's outcries, +to find that he had closed the door pending their coming. Some had even +heard the second shot while descending the stairs. It was proved, +therefore, in a very positive manner, that the master of the house had +not murdered the supposed robber. + +"I never intended to kill him," declared Garvington when his evidence +was taken. "All I intended to do, and all I did do, was to wing him, so +that he might be captured on the spot, or traced later. I closed the +door after firing the shot, as I fancied that he might have had some +accomplices with him, and I wished to make myself safe until assistance +arrived." + +"You had no idea that the man was Sir Hubert Pine?" asked a juryman. + +"Certainly not. I should not have fired had I recognized him. The moment +I opened the door he flung himself upon me. I fired and he ran away. It +was not until we all went out and found him dead by the shrubbery that +I recognized my brother-in-law. I thought he was in Paris." + +Inspector Darby deposed that he had examined the shrubbery, and had +noted broken twigs here and there, which showed that some one must have +been concealed behind the screen of laurels. The grass--somewhat long in +the thicket--had been trampled. But nothing had been discovered likely +to lead to the discovery of the assassin who had been ambushed in this +manner. + +"Are there no footmarks?" questioned the Coroner. + +"There has been no rain for weeks to soften the ground," explained the +witness, "therefore it is impossible to discover any footmarks. The +broken twigs and trampled grass show that some one was hidden in the +shrubbery, but when this person left the screen of laurels, there is +nothing to show in which direction the escape was made." + +And indeed all the evidence was useless to trace the criminal. The Manor +had been bolted and barred by Lord Garvington himself, along with some +footmen and his butler, so no one within could have fired the second +shot. The evidence of Mother Cockleshell, of Chaldea, and of various +other gypsies, went to show that no one had left the camp on that night +with the exception of Hearne, and even his absence had not been made +known until the fact of the death was made public next morning. Hearne, +as several of the gypsies stated, had retired about eleven to his tent +and had said nothing about going to The Manor, much less about leaving +the camp. Silver's statements revealed nothing, since, far from seeking +his brother-in-law's house, Pine, had pointedly declared that in order +to keep his secret he would be careful not to go near the place. + +"And Pine had no enemies to my knowledge who desired his death," +declared the secretary. "We were so intimate that had his life been in +danger he certainly would have spoken about it to me." + +"You can throw no light on the darkness?" asked the Coroner hopelessly. + +"None," said the witness. "Nor, so far as I can see, is any one else +able to throw any light on the subject. Pine's secret was not a +dishonorable one, as he was such an upright man that no one could have +desired to kill him." + +Apparently there was no solution to the mystery, as every one concluded, +when the evidence was fully threshed out. An open verdict was brought +in, and the proceedings ended in this unsatisfactory manner. + +"Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown," said Lambert, +when he read the report of the inquest in his St. James's Street rooms. +"Strange. I wonder who cut the Gordian knot of the rope which bound +Agnes to Pine?" + +He could find no reply to this question, nor could any one else. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A DIFFICULT POSITION. + + +Lord Garvington was not a creditable member of the aristocracy, since +his vices greatly exceeded his virtues. With a weak nature, and the +tastes of a sybarite, he required a great deal of money to render him +happy. Like the immortal Becky Sharp, he could have been fairly honest +if possessed of a large income; but not having it he stopped short of +nothing save actual criminality in order to indulge his luxurious +tastes to the full. Candidly speaking, he had already overstepped the +mark when he altered the figures of a check his brother-in-law had given +him, and, had not Pine been so generous, he would have undoubtedly +occupied an extremely unpleasant position. However, thanks to Agnes, the +affair had been hushed up, and with characteristic promptitude, +Garvington had conveniently forgotten how nearly he had escaped the iron +grip of Justice. In fact, so entirely did it slip his memory that--on +the plea of Pine's newly discovered origin--he did not desire the body +to be placed in the family vault. But the widow wished to pay this honor +to her husband's remains, and finally got her own way in the matter, for +the simple reason that now she was the owner of Pine's millions +Garvington did not wish to offend her. But, as such a mean creature +would, he made capital out of the concession. + +"Since I do this for you, Agnes," he said bluntly, when the question was +being decided, "you must do something for me." + +"What do you wish me to do?" + +"Ah--hum--hey--ho!" gurgled Garvington, thinking cunningly that it was +too early yet to exploit her. "We can talk about it when the will has +been read, and we know exactly how we stand. Besides your grief is +sacred to me, my dear. Shut yourself up and cry." + +Agnes had a sense of humor, and the blatant hypocrisy of the speech made +her laugh outright in spite of the genuine regret she felt for her +husband's tragic death. Garvington was quite shocked. "Do you forget +that the body is yet in the house?" he asked with heavy solemnity. + +"I don't forget anything," retorted Agnes, becoming scornfully serious. +"Not even that you count on me to settle your wretched financial +difficulties out of poor Hubert's money." + +"Of course you will, my dear. You are a Lambert." + +"Undoubtedly; but I am not necessarily a fool." + +"Oh, I can't stop and hear you call yourself such a name," said +Garvington, ostentatiously dense to her true meaning. "It is hysteria +that speaks, and not my dear sister. Very natural when you are so +grieved. We are all mortal." + +"You are certainly silly in addition," replied the widow, who knew how +useless it was to argue with the man. "Go away and don't worry me. When +poor Hubert is buried, and the will is read, I shall announce my +intentions." + +"Intentions! Intentions!" muttered the corpulent little lord, taking a +hasty departure out of diplomacy. "Surely, Agnes won't be such a fool as +to let the family estates go." + +It never struck him that Pine might have so worded the will that the +inheritance he counted upon might not come to the widow, unless she +chose to fulfil a certain condition. But then he never guessed the +jealousy with which the hot-blooded gypsy had regarded the early +engagement of Agnes and Lambert. If he had done so, he assuredly would +not have invited the young man down to the funeral. But he did so, and +talked about doing so, with a frequent mention that the body was to rest +in the sacred vault of the Lamberts so that every one should applaud his +generous humility. + +"Poor Pine was only a gypsy," said Garvington, on all and every +occasion. "But I esteemed him as a good and honest man. He shall have +every honor shown to his memory. Noel and I, as representatives of his +wife, my dear sister, shall follow him to the Lambert vault, and there, +with my ancestors, the body of this honorable, though humble, man shall +rest until the Day of Judgment." + +A cynic in London laughed when the speech was reported to him. "If +Garvington is buried in the same vault," he said contemptuously, "he +will ask Pine for money, as soon as they rise to attend the Great +Assizes!" which bitter remark showed that the little man could not +induce people to believe him so disinterested as he should have liked +them to consider him. + +However, in pursuance of this artful policy, he certainly gave the dead +man, what the landlady of the village inn called, "a dressy funeral." +All that could be done in the way of pomp and ceremony was done, and the +procession which followed Ishmael Hearne to the grave was an +extraordinarily long one. The villagers came because, like all the lower +orders, they loved the excitement of an interment; the gypsies from the +camp followed, since the deceased was of their blood; and many people in +financial and social circles came down from London for the obvious +reason that Pine was a well-known figure in the City and the West End, +and also a member of Parliament. As for Lambert, he put in an +appearance, in response to his cousin's invitation, unwillingly enough, +but in order to convince Agnes that he had every desire to obey her +commands. People could scarcely think that Pine had been jealous of the +early engagement to Agnes, when her former lover attended the funeral of +a successful rival. + +Of course, the house party at The Manor had broken up immediately after +the inquest. It would have disintegrated before only that Inspector +Darby insisted that every one should remain for examination in +connection with the late tragical occurrence. But in spite of +questioning and cross-questioning, nothing had been learned likely to +show who had murdered the millionaire. There was a great deal of talk +after the body had been placed in the Lambert vault, and there was more +talk in the newspapers when an account was given of the funeral. But +neither by word of mouth, nor in print, was any suggestion made likely +to afford the slightest clue to the name or the whereabouts of the +assassin. Having regard to Pine's romantic career, it was thought by +some that the act was one of revenge by a gypsy jealous that the man +should attain to such affluence, while others hinted that the motive +for the crime was to be found in connection with the millionaire's +career as a Gentile. Gradually, as all conjecture proved futile, the +gossip died away, and other events usurped the interest of the public. +Pine, who was really Hearne, had been murdered and buried; his assassin +would never be discovered, since the trail was too well hidden; and Lady +Agnes inherited at least two millions on which she would probably marry +her cousin and so restore the tarnished splendors of the Lambert family. +In this way the situation was summed up by the gossips, and then they +began to talk of something else. The tragedy was only a nine minutes' +wonder after all. + +The gossips both in town and country were certainly right in assuming +that the widow inherited the vast property of her deceased husband. But +what they did not know was that a condition attached to such inheritance +irritated Agnes and caused Garvington unfeigned alarm. Pine's +solicitor--he was called Jarwin and came from a stuffy little office in +Chancery Lane--called Garvington aside, when the mourners returned from +the funeral, and asked that the reading of the will might be confined to +a few people whom he named. + +"There is a condition laid down by the testator which need not be made +public," said Mr. Jarwin blandly. "A proposition which, if possible, +must be kept out of print." + +Garvington, with a sudden recollection of his iniquity in connection +with the falsified check, did not dare to ask questions, but hastily +summoned the people named by the lawyer. As these were the widow, Lady +Garvington, himself, and his cousin Noel, the little man had no fear of +what might be forthcoming, since with relatives there could be no risk +of betrayal. All the same, he waited for the reading of the will with +some perturbation, for the suggested secrecy hinted at some posthumous +revenge on the part of the dead man. And, hardened as he was, Garvington +did not wish his wife and Lambert to become acquainted with his +delinquency. He was, of course, unaware that the latter knew about it +through Agnes, and knew also how it had been used to coerce her--for the +pressure amounted to coercion--into a loveless marriage. + +The quintette assembled in a small room near the library, and when the +door and window were closed there was no chance that any one would +overhear the conference. Lambert was rather puzzled to know why he had +been requested to be present, as he had no idea that Pine would mention +him in the will. However, he had not long to wait before he learned the +reason, for the document produced by Mr. Jarwin was singularly short and +concise. Pine had never been a great speaker, and carried his reticence +into his testamentary disposition. Five minutes was sufficient for the +reading of the will, and those present learned that all real and +personal property had been left unreservedly to Agnes Pine, the widow of +the testator, on condition that she did _not_ marry Noel Tamsworth +Leighton Lambert. If she did so, the money was to pass to a certain +person, whose name was mentioned in a sealed envelope held by Mr. +Jarwin. This was only to be opened when Agnes Pine formally relinquished +her claim to the estate by marrying Noel Lambert. Seeing that the will +disposed of two millions sterling, it was a remarkably abrupt document, +and the reading of it took the hearers' breath away. + +Garvington, relieved from the fears of his guilty conscience, was the +first to recover his power of speech. He looked at the lean, dry lawyer, +and demanded fiercely if no legacy had been left to him. "Surely Pine +did not forget me?" he lamented, with more temper than sorrow. + +"You have heard the will," said Mr. Jarwin, folding up the single sheet +of legal paper on which the testament was inscribed. + +"There are no legacies." + +"None at all." + +"Hasn't Pine remembered Silver?" + +"He has remembered nothing and no one save Lady Agnes." Jarwin bowed to +the silent widow, who could not trust herself to speak, so angered was +she by the cruel way in which her husband had shown his jealousy. + +"It's all very dreadful and very disagreeable," said Lady Garvington in +her weak and inconsequent way. "I'm sure I was always nice to Hubert and +he might have left me a few shillings to get clothes. Everything goes in +cooks and food and--" + +"Hold your tongue, Jane," struck in her husband crossly. "You're always +thinking of frocks and frills. But I agree with you this will is +dreadful. I am not going to sit under such a beastly sell you know," he +added, turning to Jarwin. "I shall contest the will." + +The lawyer coughed dryly and smiled. "As you are not mentioned in the +testament, Lord Garvington, I fail to see what you can do." + +"Hum! hum! hum!" Garvington was rather disconcerted. "But Agnes can +fight it." + +"Why should I?" questioned the widow, who was very pale and very quiet. + +"Why should you?" blustered her brother. "It prevents your marrying +again." + +"Pardon me, it does not," corrected Mr. Jarwin, with another dry cough. +"Lady Agnes can marry any one she chooses to, save--" His eyes rested on +the calm and watchful face of Lambert. + +The young man colored, and glancing at Agnes, was about to speak. But on +second thoughts he checked himself, as he did not wish to add to the +embarrassment of the scene. It was the widow who replied. "Did Sir +Hubert tell you why he made such a provision?" she asked, striving to +preserve her calmness, which was difficult under the circumstances. + +"Why, no," said Jarwin, nursing his chin reflectively. "Sir Hubert was +always of a reticent disposition. He simply instructed me to draw up the +will you have heard, and gave me no explanation. Everything is in order, +and I am at your service, madam, whenever you choose to send for me." + +"But suppose I marry Mr. Lambert--" + +"Agnes, you won't be such a fool!" shouted her brother, growing so +scarlet that he seemed to be on the point of an apoplectic fit. + +She turned on him with a look, which reduced him to silence, but +carefully avoided the eyes of the cousin. "Suppose I marry Mr. Lambert?" +she asked again. + +"In that case you will lose the money," replied Jarwin, slightly weary +of so obvious an answer having to be made. "You have heard the will." + +"Who gets the money then?" + +This was another ridiculous question, as Jarwin, and not without reason, +considered. + +"Would you like me to read the will again?" he asked sarcastically. + +"No. I am aware of what it contains." + +"In that case, you must know, madam, that the money goes to a certain +person whose name is mentioned in a sealed envelope, now in my office +safe." + +"Who is the person?" demanded Garvington, with a gleam of hope that Pine +might have made him the legatee. + +"I do not know, my lord. Sir Hubert Pine wrote down the name and +address, sealed the envelope, and gave it into my charge. It can only be +opened when the ceremony of marriage takes place between--" he bowed +again to Lady Agnes and this time also to Lambert. + +"Pine must have been insane," said Garvington, fuming. "He disguises +himself as a gypsy, and comes to burgle my house, and makes a silly will +which ought to be upset." + +"Sir Hubert never struck me as insane," retorted Jarwin, putting the +disputed will into his black leather bag. "A man who can make two +million pounds in so short a space of time can scarcely be called +crazy." + +"But this masquerading as a gypsy and a burglar," urged Garvington +irritably. + +"He was actually a gypsy, remember, my lord, and it was natural that he +should wish occasionally to get back to the life he loved. As to his +being a burglar, I venture to disagree with you. He had some reason to +visit this house at the hour and in the manner he did, and doubtless if +he had lived he would have explained. But whatever might have been his +motive, Lord Garvington, I am certain it was not connected with +robbery." + +"Well," snapped the fat little man candidly, "if I had known that Pine +was such a blighter as to leave me nothing, I'm hanged if I'd have +allowed him to be buried in such decent company." + +"Freddy, Freddy, the poor man is dead. Let him rest," said Lady +Garvington, who looked more limp and untidy than ever. + +"I wish he was resting somewhere else than in my vault. A damned +gypsy!" + +"And my husband," said Lady Agnes sharply. "Don't forget that, +Garvington." + +"I wish I could forget it. Much use he has been to us." + +"_You_ have no cause to complain," said his sister with a meaning +glance, and Garvington suddenly subsided. + +"Won't you say something, Noel?" asked Lady Garvington dismally. + +"I don't see what there is to say," he rejoined, not lifting his eyes +from the ground. + +"There you are wrong," remarked Agnes with a sudden flush. "There is a +very great deal to say, but this is not the place to say it. Mr. +Jarwin," she rose to her feet, looking a queenly figure in her long +black robes, "you can return to town and later will receive my +instructions." + +The lawyer looked hard at her marble face, wondering whether she would +choose the lover or the money. It was a hard choice, and a very +difficult position. He could not read in her eyes what she intended to +do, so mutely bowed and took a ceremonious departure, paying a silent +tribute to the widow's strength of mind. "Poor thing; poor thing," +thought the solicitor, "I believe she loves her cousin. It is hard that +she can only marry him at the cost of becoming a pauper. A difficult +position for her, indeed. H'm! she'll hold on to the money, of course; +no woman would be such a fool as to pay two millions sterling for a +husband." + +In relation to nine women out of ten, this view would have been a +reasonable one to take, but Agnes happened to be the tenth, who had the +singular taste--madness some would have called it--to prefer love to +hard cash. Still, she made no hasty decision, seeing that the issues +involved in her renunciation were so great. Garvington, showing a +characteristic want of tact, began to argue the question almost the +moment Jarwin drove away from The Manor, but his sister promptly +declined to enter into any discussion. + +"You and Jane can go away," said she, cutting him short. "I wish to have +a private conversation with Noel." + +"For heaven's sake don't give up the money," whispered Garvington in an +agonized tone when at the door. + +"I sold myself once to help the family," she replied in the same low +voice; "but I am not so sure that I am ready to do so twice." + +"Quite right, dear," said Lady Garvington, patting the widow's hand. "It +is better to have love than money. Besides, it only means that Freddy +will have to give up eating rich dinners which don't agree with him." + +"Come away, you fool!" cried Freddy, exasperated, and, seizing her arm, +he drew her out of the room, growling like a sick bear. + +Agnes closed the door, and returned to look at Lambert, who still +continued to stare at the carpet with folded arms. "Well?" she demanded +sharply. + +"Well?" he replied in the same tone, and without raising his eyes. + +"Is that all you have to say, Noel?" + +"I don't see what else I can say. Pine evidently guessed that we loved +one another, although heaven knows that our affection has been innocent +enough, and has taken this way to part us forever." + +"Will it part us forever?" + +"I think so. As an honorable man, and one who loves you dearly, I can't +expect you to give up two millions for the sake of love in a cottage +with me. It is asking too much." + +"Not when a woman loves a man as I love you." + +This time Lambert did look up, and his eyes flashed with surprise and +delight. "Agnes, you don't mean to say that you would--" + +She cut him short by sitting down beside him and taking his hand. "I +would rather live on a crust with you in the Abbot's Wood Cottage than +in Park Lane a lonely woman with ample wealth." + +"You needn't remain lonely long," said Lambert moodily. "Pine's will +does not forbid you to marry any one else." + +"Do I deserve that answer, Noel, after what I have just said?" + +"No, dear, no." He pressed her hand warmly. "But you must make some +allowance for my feelings. It is right that a man should sacrifice all +for a woman, but that a woman should give up everything for a man seems +wrong." + +"Many women do, if they love truly as I do." + +"But, Agnes, think what people will say about me." + +"That will be your share of the sacrifice," she replied promptly. "If I +do this, you must do that. There is no difficulty when the matter is +looked on in that light. But there is a graver question to be answered." + +Lambert looked at her in a questioning manner and read the answer in her +eyes. "You mean about the property of the family?" + +"Yes." Agnes heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I wish I had been born a +village girl rather than the daughter of a great house. Rank has its +obligations, Noel. I recognized that before, and therefore married +Hubert. He was a good, kind man, and, save that I lost you, I had no +reason to regret becoming his wife. But I did not think that he would +have put such an insult on me." + +"Insult, dear?" Lambert flushed hotly. + +"What else can you call this forbidding me to marry you? The will is +certain to be filed at Somerset House, and the contents will be made +known to the public in the usual way, through the newspapers. Then what +will people say, Noel? Why, that I became Hubert's wife in order to get +his money, since, knowing that he was consumptive, I hoped he would soon +die, and that as a rich widow I could console myself with you. They will +chuckle to see how my scheme has been overturned by the will." + +"But you made no such scheme." + +"Of course not. Still, everyone will credit me with having done so. +As a woman, who has been insulted, and by a man who has no reason to +mistrust me, I feel inclined to renounce the money and marry you, if +only to show how I despise the millions. But as a Lambert I must think +again of the family as I thought before. The only question is, whether +it is wise to place duty above love for the second time, considering the +misery we have endured, and the small thanks we have received for our +self-denial?" + +"Surely Garvington's estates are free by now?" + +"No; they are not. Hubert, as I told you when we spoke in the cottage, +paid off many mortgages, but retained possession of them. He did not +charge Garvington any interest, and let him have the income of the +mortgaged land. No one could have behaved better than Hubert did, until +my brother's demands became so outrageous that it was impossible to go +on lending and giving him money. Hubert did not trust him so far as to +give back the mortgages, so these will form a portion of his estate. As +that belongs to me, I can settle everything with ease, and place +Garvington in an entirely satisfactory condition. But I do that at the +cost of losing you, dear. Should the estates pass to this unknown +person, the mortgages would be foreclosed, and our family would be +ruined." + +"Are things as bad as that?" + +"Every bit as bad. Hubert told me plainly how matters stood. For +generations the heads of the family have been squandering money. Freddy +is just as bad as the rest, and, moreover, has no head for figures. He +does not know the value of money, never having been in want of it. But +if everything was sold up--and it must be if I marry you and lose the +millions--he will be left without an acre of land and only three hundred +a year." + +"Oh, the devil!" Lambert jumped up and began to walk up and down the +room with a startled air. "That would finish the Lambert family with a +vengeance, Agnes. What do you wish me to do?" he asked, after a pause. + +"Wait," she said quietly. + +"Wait? For what--the Deluge?" + +"It won't come while I hold the money. I have a good business head, and +Hubert taught me how to deal with financial matters. I could not give +him love, but I did give him every attention, and I believe that I was +able to help him in some ways. I shall utilize my experience to see the +family lawyer and go into matters thoroughly. Then we shall know for +certain if things are as bad as Hubert made out. If they are, I must +sacrifice you and myself for the sake of our name; if they are not--" + +"Well?" asked Lambert, seeing how she hesitated. Agnes crossed the room +and placed her arms round his neck with a lovely color tinting her wan +cheeks. "Dear," she whispered, "I shall marry you. In doing so I am not +disloyal to Hubert's memory, since I have always loved you, and he +accepted me as his wife on the understanding that I could not give him +my heart. And now that he has insulted me," she drew back, and her eyes +flashed, "I feel free to become your wife." + +"I see," Lambert nodded. "We must wait?" + +"We must wait. Duty comes before love. But I trust that the sacrifice +will not be necessary. Good-bye, dear," and she kissed him. + +"Good-bye," repeated Lambert, returning the kiss. Then they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +BLACKMAIL. + + +Having come to the only possible arrangement, consistent with the +difficult position in which they stood, Lambert and Lady Agnes took +their almost immediate departure from The Manor. The young man had +merely come to stay there in response to his cousin's request, so that +his avoidance of her should not be too marked, and the suspicions of +Pine excited. Now that the man was dead, there was no need to behave in +this judicious way, and having no great love for Garvington, whom he +thoroughly despised, Lambert returned to his forest cottage. There he +busied himself once more with his art, and waited patiently to see what +the final decision of Agnes would be. He did not expect to hear for some +weeks, or even months, as the affairs of Garvington, being very much +involved, could not be understood in a moment. But the lovers, parted by +a strict sense of duty, eased their minds by writing weekly letters to +one another. + +Needless to say, Garvington did not at all approve of the decision of +his sister, which she duly communicated to him. He disliked Lambert, +both as the next heir to the estates, and because he was a more popular +man than himself. Even had Pine not prohibited the marriage in his will, +Garvington would have objected to Agnes becoming the young man's wife; +as it was, he stormed tempests, but without changing the widow's +determination. Being a remarkably selfish creature, all he desired was +that Agnes should live a solitary life as a kind of banker, to supply +him with money whenever he chose to ask for the same. Pine he had not +been able to manage, but he felt quite sure that he could bully his +sister into doing what he wanted. It both enraged and surprised him to +find that she had a will of her own and was not content to obey his +egotistical orders. Agnes would not even remain under his roof--as he +wanted her to, lest some other person should get hold of her and the +desirable millions--but returned to her London house. The only comfort +he had was that Lambert was not with her, and therefore--as he devoutly +hoped--she would meet some man who would cause her to forget the Abbot's +Wood recluse. So long as Agnes retained the money, Garvington did not +particularly object to her marrying, as he always hoped to cajole and +bully ready cash out of her, but he would have preferred had she +remained single, as then she could be more easily plundered. + +"And yet I don't know," he said to his long-suffering wife. "While she's +a widow there's always the chance that she may take the bit between her +teeth and marry Noel, in which case she loses everything. It will be as +well to get her married." + +"You will have no selection of the husband this time," said Lady +Garvington, whose sympathies were entirely for Agnes. "She will choose +for herself." + +"Let her," retorted Garvington, with feigned generosity. "So long as she +does not choose Noel; hang him!" + +"He's the very man she will choose;" replied his wife, and Garvington, +uneasily conscious that she was probably right, cursed freely all women +in general and his sister in particular. Meanwhile he went to Paris to +look after a famous chef, of whom he had heard great things, and left +his wife in London with strict injunctions to keep a watch on Agnes. + +The widow was speedily made aware of these instructions, for when Lady +Garvington came to stay with her sister-in-law at the sumptuous Mayfair +mansion, she told her hostess about the conversation. More than that, +she even pressed her to marry Noel, and be happy. + +"Money doesn't do so much, after all, when you come to think of it," +lamented Lady Garvington. "And I know you'd be happier with Noel, than +living here with all this horrid wealth." + +"What would Freddy say if he heard you talk so, Jane?" + +"I don't know what else he can say," rejoined the other reflectively. +"He's never kept his temper or held his tongue with me. His liver is +nearly always out of order with over-eating. However," she added +cheering up, "he is sure to die of apoplexy before long, and then I +shall live on tea and buns for the rest of my life. I simply hate the +sight of a dinner table." + +"Freddy isn't a pretty sight during a meal," admitted his sister with a +shrug. "All the same you shouldn't wish him dead, Jane. You might have a +worse husband." + +"I'd rather have a profligate than a glutton, Agnes. But Freddy won't +die, my dear. He'll go to Wiesbaden, or Vichy, or Schwalbach, and take +the waters to get thin; then he'll return to eat himself to the size of +a prize pig again. But thank goodness," said Lady Garvington, cheering +up once more, "he's away for a few weeks, and we can enjoy ourselves. +But do let us have plain joints and no sauces, Agnes." + +"Oh, you can live on bread and water if you choose," said the widow +good-humoredly. "It's a pity I am in mourning, as I can't take you out +much. But the motor is always at your disposal, and I can give you all +the money you want. Get a few dresses--" + +"And hats, and boots, and shoes, and--and--oh, I don't know what else. +You're a dear, Agnes, and although I don't want to ruin you, I do want +heaps of things. I'm in rags, as Freddy eats up our entire income." + +"You can't ruin a woman with two millions, Jane. Get what you require +and I'll pay. I am only too glad to give you some pleasure, since I +can't attend to you as I ought to. But you see, nearly three times a +week I have to consult the lawyers about settling Freddy's affairs." + +On these conditions four or five weeks passed away very happily for the +two women. Lady Garvington certainly had the time of her life, and +regained a portion of her lost youth. She revelled in shopping, went in +a quiet way to theatres, patronized skating rinks, and even attended one +or two small winter dances. And to her joy, she met with a nice young +man, who was earnestly in pursuit of a new religion, which involved much +fasting and occasional vegetarian meals. He taught her to eat nuts, and +eschew meats, talking meanwhile of the psychic powers which such +abstemiousness would develop in her. Of course Lady Garvington did not +overdo this asceticism, but she was thankful to meet a man who had not +read Beeton's Cookery Book. Besides, he flirted quite nicely. + +Agnes, pleased to see her sister-in-law enjoying life, gave her +attention to Garvington's affairs, and found them in a woeful mess. It +really did appear as if she would have to save the Lambert family from +ever-lasting disgrace, and from being entirely submerged, by keeping +hold of her millions. But she did not lose heart, and worked on bravely +in the hope that an adjustment would save a few thousand a year for +Freddy, without touching any of Pine's money. If she could manage to +secure him a sufficient income to keep up the title, and to prevent the +sale of The Manor in Hengishire, she then intended to surrender her +husband's wealth and retire to a country life with Noel as her husband. + +"He can paint and I can look after the cottage along with Mrs. Tribb," +she told Mrs. Belgrove, who called to see her one day, more painted and +dyed and padded and tastefully dressed than ever. "We can keep fowls and +things, you know," she added vaguely. + +"Quite an idyl," tittered the visitor, and then went away to tell her +friends that Lady Agnes must have been in love with her cousin all the +time. And as the contents of the will were now generally known, every +one agreed that the woman was a fool to give up wealth for a dull +existence in the woods. "All the same it's very sweet," sighed Mrs. +Belgrove, having made as much mischief as she possibly could. "I should +like it myself if I could only dress as a Watteau shepherdess, you know, +and carry a lamb with a blue ribbon round its dear neck." + +Of course, Lady Agnes heard nothing of this ill-natured chatter, since +she did not go into society during her period of mourning, and received +only a few of her most intimate friends. Moreover, besides attending to +Garvington's affairs, it was necessary that she should have frequent +consultations with Mr. Jarwin in his stuffy Chancery Lane office, +relative to the large fortune left by her late husband. There, on three +occasions she met Silver, the ex-secretary, when he came to explain +various matters to the solicitor. With the consent of Lady Agnes, the +man had been discharged, when Jarvin took over the management of the +millions, but having a thorough knowledge of Pine's financial dealings, +it was necessary that he should be questioned every now and then. + +Silver was rather sulky over his abrupt dismissal, but cunningly +concealed his real feelings when in the presence of the widow, since she +was too opulent a person to offend. It was Silver who suggested that a +reward should be offered for the detection of Pine's assassin. Lady +Agnes approved of the idea, and indeed was somewhat shocked that she had +not thought of taking this course herself. Therefore, within seven days +every police office in the United Kingdom was placarded with bills, +stating that the sum of one thousand pounds would be given to the person +or persons who should denounce the culprit. The amount offered caused +quite a flutter of excitement, and public interest in the case was +revived for nearly a fortnight. At the conclusion of that period, as +nothing fresh was discovered, people ceased to discuss the matter. It +seemed as though the reward, large as it was, would never be claimed. + +But having regard to the fact that Silver was interesting himself in the +endeavor to avenge his patron's death, Lady Agnes was not at all +surprised to receive a visit from him one foggy November afternoon. She +certainly did not care much for the little man, but feeling dull and +somewhat lonely, she quite welcomed his visit. Lady Garvington had gone +with her ascetic admirer to a lecture on "Souls and Sorrows!" therefore +Agnes had a spare hour for the ex-secretary. He was shown into her own +particular private sitting-room, and she welcomed him with studied +politeness, for try as she might it was impossible for her to overcome +her mistrust. + +"Good-day, Mr. Silver," she said, when he bowed before her. "This is an +unexpected visit. Won't you be seated?" + +Silver accepted her offer of a chair with an air of demure shyness, and +sitting on its edge stared at her rather hard. He looked neat and dapper +in his Bond Street kit, and for a man who had started life as a +Whitechapel toymaker, his manners were inoffensive. While Pine's +secretary he had contrived to pick up hints in the way of social +behavior, and undoubtedly he was clever, since he so readily adapted +himself to his surroundings. He was not a gentleman, but he looked like +a gentleman, and therein lay a subtle difference as Lady Agnes decided. +She unconsciously in her manner, affable as it was, suggested the gulf +between them, and Silver, quickly contacting the atmosphere, did not +love her any the more for the hint. + +Nevertheless, he admired her statuesque beauty, the fairness of which +was accentuated by her sombre dress. Blinking like a well-fed cat, +Silver stared at his hostess, and she looked questioningly at him. With +his foxy face, his reddish hair, and suave manners, too careful to be +natural, he more than ever impressed her with the idea that he was a +dangerous man. Yet she could not see in what way he could reveal his +malignant disposition. + +"What do you wish to see me about, Mr. Silver?" she asked kindly, but +did not--as he swiftly noticed--offer him a cup of tea, although it was +close upon five o'clock. + +"I have come to place my services at your disposal," he said in a low +voice. + +"Really, I am not aware that I need them," replied Lady Agnes coldly, +and not at all anxious to accept the offer. + +"I think," said Silver dryly, and clearing his throat, "that when you +hear what I have to say you will be glad that I have come." + +"Indeed! Will you be good enough to speak plainer?" + +She colored hotly when she asked the question, as it struck her suddenly +that perhaps this plotter knew of Garvington's slip regarding the check. +But as that had been burnt by Pine at the time of her marriage, she +reflected that even if Silver knew about it, he could do nothing. +Unless, and it was this thought that made her turn red, Garvington had +again risked contact with the criminal courts. The idea was not a +pleasant one, but being a brave woman, she faced the possibility boldly. + +"Well?" she asked calmly, as he did not reply immediately. "What have +you to say?" + +"It's about Pine's death," said Silver bluntly. + +"Sir Hubert, if you please." + +"And why, Lady Agnes?" Silver raised his faint eyebrows. "We were more +like brothers than master and servant. And remember that it was by the +penny toys that I invented your husband first made money." + +"In talking to me, I prefer that you should call my late husband Sir +Hubert," insisted the widow haughtily. "What have you discovered +relative to his death?" + +Silver did not answer the question directly. "Sir Hubert, since you will +have it so, Lady Agnes, was a gypsy," he remarked carelessly. + +"That was made plain at the inquest, Mr. Silver." + +"Quite so, Lady Agnes, but there were other things not made plain on +that occasion. It was not discovered who shot him." + +"You tell me nothing new. I presume you have come to explain that you +have discovered a clew to the truth?" + +Silver raised his pale face steadily. "Would you be glad if I had?" + +"Certainly! Can you doubt it?" + +The man shirked a reply to this question also. "Sir Hubert did not treat +me over well," he observed irrelevantly. + +"I fear that has nothing to do with me, Mr. Silver." + +"And I was dimissed from my post," he went on imperturbably. + +"On Mr. Jarwin's advice," she informed him quickly. "There was no need +for you to be retained. But I believe that you were given a year's +salary in lieu of notice." + +"That is so," he admitted. "I am obliged to you and to Mr. Jarwin for +the money, although it is not a very large sum. Considering what I did +for Sir Hubert, and how he built up his fortune out of my brains, I +think that I have been treated shabbily." + +Lady Agnes rose, and moved towards the fireplace to touch the ivory +button of the electric bell. "On that point I refer you to Mr. Jarwin," +she said coldly. "This interview has lasted long enough and can lead to +nothing." + +"It may lead to something unpleasant unless you listen to me," said +Silver acidly. "I advise you not to have me turned out, Lady Agnes." + +"What do you mean?" She dropped the hand she had extended to ring the +bell, and faced the smooth-faced creature suddenly. "I don't know what +you are talking about." + +"If you will sit down, Lady Agnes, I can explain." + +"I can receive your explanation standing," said the widow, frowning. "Be +brief, please." + +"Very well. To put the matter in a nutshell, I want five thousand +pounds." + +"Five thousand pounds!" she echoed, aghast. + +"On account," said Silver blandly. "On account, Lady Agnes." + +"And for what reason?" + +"Sir Hubert was a gypsy," he said again, and with a significant look. + +"Well?" + +"He stopped at the camp near Abbot's Wood." + +"Well?" + +"There is a gypsy girl there called Chaldea." + +"Chaldea! Chaldea!" muttered the widow, passing her hand across her +brow. "I have heard that name. Oh, yes. Miss Greeby mentioned it to me +as the name of a girl who was sitting as Mr. Lambert's model." + +"Yes," assented Silver, grinning. "She is a very beautiful girl." + +The color rushed again to the woman's cheeks, but she controlled her +emotions with an effort. "So Miss Greeby told me!" She knew that the man +was hinting that Lambert admired the girl in question, but her pride +prevented her admitting the knowledge. "Chaldea is being painted as +Esmeralda to the Quasimodo of her lover, a Servian gypsy called Kara, as +I have been informed, Mr. Silver. But what has all this to do with me?" + +"Don't be in a hurry, Lady Agnes. It will take time to explain." + +"How dare you take this tone with me?" demanded the widow, clenching her +hands. "Leave the room, sir, or I shall have you turned out." + +"Oh, I shall leave since you wish it," replied Silver, rising slowly and +smoothing his silk hat with his sleeve. "But of course I shall try and +earn the reward you offered, by taking the letter to the police." + +Agnes was so surprised that she closed again the door she had opened for +her visitor's exit. "What letter?" + +"That one which was written to inveigle Sir Hubert to The Manor on the +night he was murdered," replied Silver slowly, and suddenly raising his +eyes he looked at her straightly. + +"I don't understand," she said in a puzzled way. "I have never heard +that such a letter was in existence. Where is it?" + +"Chaldea has it, and will not give it up unless she receives five +thousand pounds," answered the man glibly. "Give it to me and it passes +into your possession, Lady Agnes." + +"Give you what?" + +"Five thousand pounds--on account." + +"On account of blackmail. How dare you make such a proposition to me?" + +"You know," said Silver pointedly. + +"I know nothing. It is the first time I have heard of any letter. Who +wrote it, may I ask?" + +"You know," said Silver again. + +Lady Agnes was so insulted by his triumphant look that she could have +struck his grinning face. However, she had too strong a nature to lower +herself in this way, and pointed to a chair. "Let me ask you a few +questions, Mr. Silver," she said imperiously. + +"Oh, I am quite ready to answer whatever you choose to ask," he +retorted, taking his seat again and secretly surprised at her +self-control. + +"You say that Chaldea holds a letter which inveigled my husband to his +death?" demanded Lady Agnes coolly. + +"Yes. And she wants five thousand pounds for it." + +"Why doesn't she give it to the police?" + +"One thousand pounds is not enough for the letter. It is worth more--to +some people," and Silver raised his pale eyes again. + +"To me, I presume you mean;" then when he bowed, she continued her +examination. "The five thousand pounds you intimate is on account, yet +you say that Chaldea will deliver the letter for that sum." + +"To me," rejoined the ex-secretary impudently. "And when it is in my +possession, I can give it to you for twenty thousand pounds." + +Lady Agnes laughed in his face. "I am too good a business woman to make +such a bargain," she said with a shrug. + +"Well, you know best," replied Silver, imitating her shrug. + +"I know nothing; I am quite in the dark as to the reason for your +blackmailing, Mr. Silver." + +"That is a nasty word, Lady Agnes." + +"It is the only word which seems to suit the situation. Why should I +give twenty-five thousand pounds for this letter?" + +"Its production will place the police on the track of the assassin." + +"And is not that what I desire? Why did I offer a reward of one thousand +pounds if I did not hope that the wretch who murdered my husband should +be brought to justice?" + +Silver exhibited unfeigned surprise. "You wish that?" + +"Certainly I do. Where was this letter discovered?" + +"Chaldea went to the tent of your husband in the camp and found it in +the pocket of his coat. He apparently left it behind by mistake when he +went to watch." + +"Watch?" + +"Yes! The letter stated that you intended to elope that night with Mr. +Lambert, and would leave the house by the blue door. Sir Hubert went to +watch and prevent the elopement. In that way he came by his death, since +Lord Garvington threatened to shoot a possible burglar. Of course, Sir +Hubert, when the blue door was opened by Lord Garvington, who had heard +the footsteps of the supposed burglar, threw himself forward, thinking +you were coming out to meet Mr. Lambert. Sir Hubert was first shot in +the arm by Lord Garvington, who really believed for the moment that he +had to do with a robber. But the second shot," ended Silver with +emphasis, "was fired by a person concealed in the shrubbery, who knew +that Sir Hubert would walk into the trap laid by the letter." + +During this amazing recital, Lady Agnes, with her eyes on the man's +face, and her hands clasped in sheer surprise, had sat down on a near +couch. She could scarcely believe her ears. "Is this true?" she asked in +a faltering voice. + +Silver shrugged his shoulders again. "The letter held by Chaldea +certainly set the snare in which Sir Hubert was caught. Unless the +person in the shrubbery knew about the letter, the person would scarcely +have been concealed there with a revolver. I know about the letter for +certain, since Chaldea showed it to me, when I went to ask questions +about the murder in the hope of gaining the reward. The rest of my story +is theoretical." + +"Who was the person who fired the shot?" asked Lady Agnes abruptly. + +"I don't know." + +"Who wrote the letter which set the snare?" + +Silver shuffled. "Chaldea loves Mr. Lambert," he said hesitating. + +"Go on," ordered the widow coldly and retaining her self-control. + +"She is jealous of you, Lady Agnes, because--" + +"There is no reason to explain," interrupted the listener between her +teeth. + +"Well, then, Chaldea hating you, says that you wrote the letter." + +"Oh, indeed." Lady Agnes replied calmly enough, although her conflicting +emotions almost suffocated her. "Then I take it that this gypsy declares +me to be a murderess." + +"Oh, I shouldn't say that exactly." + +"I do say it," cried Lady Agnes, rising fiercely. "If I wrote the +letter, and set the snare, I must necessarily know that some one was +hiding in the shrubbery to shoot my husband. It is an abominable lie +from start to finish." + +"I am glad to hear you say so. But the letter?" + +"The police will deal with that." + +"The police? You will let Chaldea give the letter to the police?" + +"I am innocent and have no fear of the police. Your attempt to +blackmail me has failed, Mr. Silver." + +"Be wise and take time for reflection," he urged, walking towards the +door, "for I have seen this letter, and it is in your handwriting." + +"I never wrote such a letter." + +"Then who did--in your handwriting?" + +"Perhaps you did yourself, Mr. Silver, since you are trying to blackmail +me in this bareface way." + +Silver snarled and gave her an ugly look. "I did no such thing," he +retorted vehemently, and, as it seemed, honestly enough. "I had every +reason to wish that Sir Hubert should live, since my income and my +position depended upon his existence. But you--" + +"What about me?" demanded Lady Agnes, taking so sudden a step forward +that the little man retreated nearer the door. + +"People say--" + +"I know what people say and what you are about to repeat," she said in a +stifled voice. "You can tell the girl to take that forged letter to the +police. I am quite able to face any inquiry." + +"Is Mr. Lambert also able?" + +"Mr. Lambert?" Agnes felt as though she would choke. + +"He was at his cottage on that night." + +"I deny that; he went to London." + +"Chaldea can prove that he was at his cottage, and--" + +"You had better go," said Lady Agnes, turning white and looking +dangerous. "Go, before you say what you may be sorry for. I shall tell +Mr. Lambert the story you have told me, and let him deal with the +matter." + +Silver threw off the mask, as he was enraged she should so boldly +withstand his demands. "I give you one week," he said harshly. "And, if +you do not pay me twenty-five thousand pounds, that letter goes to the +inspector at Wanbury." + +"It can go now," she declared dauntlessly. + +"In that case you and Mr. Lambert will be arrested at once." + +Agnes gripped the man's arm as he was about to step through the door. "I +take your week of grace," she said with a sudden impulse of wisdom. + +"I thought you would," retorted Silver insultingly. "But remember I must +get the money at the end of seven days. It's twenty-five thousand pounds +for me, or disgrace to you," and with an abrupt nod he disappeared +sneering. + +"Twenty-five thousand pounds or disgrace," whispered Agnes to herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE CONSPIRACY. + + +It was lucky that Lambert did not know of the ordeal to which Agnes had +to submit, unaided, since he was having a most unhappy time himself. In +a sketching expedition he had caught a chill, which had developed once +more a malarial fever, contracted in the Congo marshes some years +previously. Whenever his constitution weakened, this ague fit would +reappear, and for days, sometimes weeks, he would shiver with cold, and +alternately burn with fever. As the autumn mists were hanging round the +leafless Abbot's Wood, it was injudicious of him to sit in the open, +however warmly clothed, seeing that he was predisposed to disease. But +his desire for the society of the woman he loved, and the hopelessness +of the outlook, rendered him reckless, and he was more often out of +doors than in. The result was that when Agnes came down to relate the +interview with Silver, she found him in his sitting-room swathed in +blankets, and reclining in an arm-chair placed as closely to a large +wood fire as was possible. He was very ill indeed, poor man, and she +uttered an exclamation when she saw his wan cheeks and hollow eyes. +Lambert was now as weak as he had been strong, and with the mothering +instinct of a woman, she rushed forward to kneel beside his chair. + +"My dear, my dear, why did you not send for me?" she wailed, keeping +back her tears with an effort. + +"Oh, I'm all right, Agnes," he answered cheerfully, and fondly clasping +her hand. "Mrs. Tribb is nursing me capitally." + +"I'm doing my best," said the rosy-faced little housekeeper, who stood +at the door with her podgy hands primly folded over her apron. "Plenty +of bed and food is what I give Master Noel; but bless you, my lady, he +won't stay between the blankets, being always a worrit from a boy." + +"It seems to me that I am very much between the blankets now," murmured +Lambert in a tired voice, and with a glance at his swathed limbs. "Go +away, Mrs. Tribb, and get Lady Agnes something to eat." + +"I only want a cup of tea," said Agnes, looking anxiously into her +lover's bluish-tinted face. "I'm not hungry." + +Mrs. Tribb took a long look at the visitor and pursed up her lips, as +she shook her head. "Hungry you mayn't be, my lady, but food you must +have, and that of the most nourishing and delicate. You look almost as +much a corpse as Master Noel there." + +"Yes, Agnes, you do seem to be ill," said Lambert with a startled +glance at her deadly white face, and at the dark circles under her eyes. +"What is the matter, dear?" + +"Nothing! Nothing! Don't worry." + +Mrs. Tribb still continued to shake her head, and, to vary the movement, +nodded like a Chinese mandarin. "You ain't looked after proper, my lady, +for all your fine London servants, who ain't to be trusted, nohow, +having neither hands to do nor hearts to feel for them as wants comforts +and attentions. I remember you, my lady, a blooming young rose of a gal, +and now sheets ain't nothing to your complexion. But rose you shall be +again, my lady, if wine and food can do what they're meant to do. Tea +you shan't have, nohow, but a glass or two of burgundy, and a plate of +patty-foo-grass sandwiches, and later a bowl of strong beef tea with +port wine to strengthen the same," and Mrs. Tribb, with a determined +look on her face, went away to prepare these delicacies. + +"My dear! my dear!" murmured Agnes again when the door closed. "You +should have sent for me." + +"Nonsense," answered Lambert, smoothing her hair. "I'm not a child to +cry out at the least scratch. It's only an attack of my old malarial +fever, and I shall be all right in a few days." + +"Not a few of these days," said Agnes, looking out of the window at the +gaunt, dripping trees and gray sky and melancholy monoliths. "You ought +to come to London and see the doctor." + +"Had I come, I should have had to pay you a visit, and I thought that +you did not wish me to, until things were adjusted." + +Agnes drew back, and, kneeling before the fire, spread out her hands to +the blaze. "Will they ever be adjusted?" she asked herself despairingly, +but did not say so aloud, as she was unwilling to worry the sick man. +"Well, I only came down to The Manor for a few days," she said aloud, +and in a most cheerful manner. "Jane wants to get the house in order +for Garvington, who returns from Paris in a week." + +"Agnes! Agnes!" Lambert shook his head. "You are not telling me the +truth. I know you too well, my dear." + +"I really am staying with Jane at The Manor," she persisted. + +"Oh, I believe that; but you are in trouble and came down to consult me." + +"Yes," she admitted faintly. "I am in great trouble. But I don't wish to +worry you while you are in this state." + +"You will worry me a great deal more by keeping silence," said Lambert, +sitting up in his chair and drawing the blankets more closely round him. +"Do not trouble about me. I'm all right. But you--" he looked at her +keenly and with a dismayed expression. "The trouble must be very great," +he remarked. + +"It may become so, Noel. It has to do with--oh, here is Mrs. Tribb!" and +she broke off hurriedly, as the housekeeper appeared with a tray. + +"Now, my lady, just you sit in that arm-chair opposite to Master Noel, +and I'll put the tray on this small stool beside you. Sandwiches and +burgundy wine, my lady, and see that you eat and drink all you can. +Walking over on this dripping day," cried Mrs. Tribb, bustling about. +"Giving yourself your death of cold, and you with carriages and horses, +and them spitting cats of motive things. You're as bad as Master Noel, +my lady. As for him, God bless him evermore, he's--" Mrs. Tribb raised +her hands to show that words failed her, and once more vanished through +the door to get ready the beef tea. + +Agnes did not want to eat, but Lambert, who quite agreed with the +kind-hearted practical housekeeper, insisted that she should do so. To +please him she took two sandwiches, and a glass of the strong red wine, +which brought color back to her cheeks in some degree. When she +finished, and had drawn her chair closer to the blaze, he smiled. + +"We are just like Darby and Joan," said Lambert, who looked much better +for her presence. "I am so glad you are here, Agnes. You are the very +best medicine I can have to make me well." + +"The idea of comparing me to anything so nasty as medicine," laughed +Agnes with an attempt at gayety. "But indeed, Noel, I wish my visit was +a pleasant one. But it is not, whatever you may say; I am in great +trouble." + +"From what--with what--in what?" stuttered Lambert, so confusedly and +anxiously that she hesitated to tell him. + +"Are you well enough to hear?" + +"Of course I am," he answered fretfully, for the suspense began to tell +on his nerves. "I would rather know the worst and face the worst than be +left to worry over these hints. Has the trouble to do with the murder?" + +"Yes. And with Mr. Silver." + +"Pine's secretary? I thought you had got rid of him?" + +"Oh, yes. Mr. Jarwin said that he was not needed, so I paid him a year's +wages instead of giving him notice, and let him go. But I have met him +once or twice at the lawyers, as he has been telling Mr. Jarwin about +poor Hubert's investments. And yesterday afternoon he came to see me." + +"What about?" + +Agnes came to the point at once, seeing that it would be better to do +so, and put an end to Lambert's suspense. "About a letter supposed to +have been written by me, as a means of luring Hubert to The Manor to be +murdered." + +Lambert's sallow and pinched face grew a deep red. "Is the man mad?" + +"He's sane enough to ask twenty-five thousand pounds for the letter," +she said in a dry tone. "There's not much madness about that request." + +"Twenty-five thousand pounds!" gasped Lambert, gripping the arms of his +chair and attempting to rise. + +"Yes. Don't get up, Noel, you are too weak." Agnes pressed him back into +the seat. "Twenty thousand for himself and five thousand for Chaldea." + +"Chaldea! Chaldea! What has she got to do with the matter?" + +"She holds the letter," said Agnes with a side-glance. "And being +jealous of me, she intends to make me suffer, unless I buy her silence +and the letter. Otherwise, according to Mr. Silver, she will show it to +the police. I have seven days, more or less, in which to make up my +mind. Either I must be blackmailed, or I must face the accusation." + +Lambert heard only one word that struck him in this speech. "Why is +Chaldea jealous of you?" he demanded angrily. + +"I think you can best answer that question, Noel." + +"I certainly can, and answer it honestly, too. Who told you about +Chaldea?" + +"Mr. Silver, for one, as I have just confessed. Clara Greeby for +another. She said that the girl was sitting to you for some picture." + +"Esmeralda and Quasimodo," replied the artist quickly. "You will find +what I have done of the picture in the next room. But this confounded +girl chose to fall in love with me, and since then I have declined to +see her. I need hardly tell you, Agnes, that I gave her no +encouragement." + +"No, dear. I never for one moment supposed that you would." + +"All the same, and in spite of my very plain speaking, she continues to +haunt me, Agnes. I have avoided her on every occasion, but she comes +daily to see Mrs. Tribb, and ask questions about my illness." + +"Then, if she comes this afternoon, you must get that letter from her," +was the reply. "I wish to see it." + +"Silver declares that you wrote it?" + +"He does. Chaldea showed it to him." + +"It is in your handwriting?" + +"So Mr. Silver declares." + +Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggled +uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints," he +said with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailed +account of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exact +words if you can remember them, Agnes." + +"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insults +easily." + +"Damn the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear." + +Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that had +passed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twice +during the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, he +longed for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have fared +badly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment. +When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes. + +"It's a conspiracy," he declared. + +"A conspiracy, Noel?" + +"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love with +me. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to do +you an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is assisting her. I will +do Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a single +penny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police. +But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has prevented +her doing so. As to this letter--" He stopped and rubbed his chin again +vexedly. + +"It must be a forgery." + +"Without doubt, but not of your handwriting, I fancy, in spite of what +this daring blackguard says. He informed you that the letter stated how +you intended to elope with me on that night, and would leave The Manor +by the blue door. Also, on the face of it, it would appear that you had +written the letter to your husband, since otherwise it would not have +been in his possession. You would not have given him such a hint had an +elopement really been arranged." + +Agnes frowned. "There was no chance of an elopement being arranged," she +observed rather coldly. + +"Of course not. You and I know as much, but I am looking at the matter +from the point of view of the person who wrote the letter. It can't be +your forged handwriting, for Pine would never have believed that you +would put him on the track as it were. No, Agnes. Depend upon it, the +letter was a warning sent by some sympathetic friend, and is probably an +anonymous one." + +Agnes nodded meditatively. "You may be right, Noel. But who wrote to +Hubert?" + +"We must see the letter and find out." + +"But if it is my forged handwriting?" + +"I don't believe it is," said Lambert decisively. "No conspirator would +be so foolish as to conduct his plot in such a way. However, Chaldea has +the letter, according to Silver, and we must make her give it up. She is +sure to be here soon, as she always comes bothering Mrs. Tribb in the +afternoon about my health. Just ring that hand-bell, Agnes." + +"Do you think Chaldea wrote the letter?" she asked, having obeyed him. + +"No. She has not the education to forge, or even to write decently." + +"Perhaps Mr. Silver--but no. I taxed him with setting the trap, and he +declared that Hubert was more benefit to him alive than dead, which is +perfectly true. Here is Mrs. Tribb, Noel." + +Lambert turned his head. "Has that gypsy been here to-day?" he asked +sharply. + +"Not yet, Master Noel, but there's no saying when she may come, for +she's always hanging round the house. I'd tar and feather her and slap +and pinch her if I had my way, say what you like, my lady. I've no +patience with gals of that free-and-easy, light-headed, +butter-won't-melt-in-your-mouth kind." + +"If she comes to-day, show her in here," said Lambert, paying little +attention to Mrs. Tribb's somewhat German speech of mouth-filling words. + +The housekeeper's black eyes twinkled, and she opened her lips, then she +shut them again, and looking at Lady Agnes in a questioning way, trotted +out of the room. It was plain that Mrs. Tribb knew of Chaldea's +admiration for her master, and could not understand why he wished her to +enter the house when Lady Agnes was present. She did not think it a wise +thing to apply fire to gunpowder, which, in her opinion, was what +Lambert was doing. + +There ensued silence for a few moments. Then Agnes, staring into the +fire, remarked in a musing manner, "I wonder who did shoot Hubert. Mr. +Silver would not have done so, as it was to his interest to keep him +alive. Do you think that to hurt me, Noel, Chaldea might have--" + +"No! No! No! It was to her interest also that Pine should live, since +she knew that I could not marry you while he was alive." + +Agnes nodded, understanding him so well that she did not need to ask +for a detailed explanation. "It could not have been any of those staying +at The Manor," she said doubtfully, "since every one was indoors and in +bed. Garvington, of course, only broke poor Hubert's arm under a +misapprehension. Who could have been the person in the shrubbery?" + +"Silver hints that I am the individual," said Lambert grimly. + +"Yes, he does," assented Lady Agnes quickly. "I declared that you were +in London, but he said that you returned on that night to this place." + +"I did, worse luck. I went to town, thinking it best to be away while +Pine was in the neighborhood, and--" + +"You knew that Hubert was a gypsy and at the camp?" interrupted Agnes in +a nervous manner, for the information startled her. + +"Yes! Chaldea told me so, when she was trying to make me fall in love +with her. I did not tell you, as I thought that you might be vexed, +although I dare say I should have done so later. However, I went to town +in order to prevent trouble, and only returned for that single night. I +went back to town next morning very early, and did not hear about the +murder until I saw a paragraph in the evening papers. Afterwards I came +down to the funeral because Garvington asked me to, and I thought that +you would like it." + +"Why did you come back on that particular night?" + +"My dear Agnes, I had no idea that Hubert would be murdered on that +especial night, so did not choose it particularly. I returned because I +had left behind a parcel of your letters to me when we were engaged. I +fancied that Chaldea might put Hubert up to searching the cottage while +I was away, and if he had found those letters he would have been more +jealous than ever, as you can easily understand." + +"No, I can't understand," flashed out Agnes sharply. "Hubert knew that +we loved one another, and that I broke the engagement to save the +family. I told him that I could not give him the affection he desired, +and he was content to marry me on those terms. The discovery of letters +written before I became his wife would not have caused trouble, since I +was always loyal to him. There was no need for you to return, and your +presence here on that night lends color to Mr. Silver's accusation." + +"But you don't believe--" + +"Certainly I don't. All the same it is awkward for both of us." + +"I think it was made purposely awkward, Agnes. Whosoever murdered Hubert +must have known of my return, and laid the trap on that night, so that I +might be implicated." + +"But who set the trap?" + +"The person who wrote that letter." + +"And who wrote the letter?" + +"That is what we have to find out from Chaldea!" + +At that moment; as if he had summoned her, the gypsy suddenly flung open +the door and walked in with a sulky expression on her dark face. At +first she had been delighted to hear that Lambert wanted to see her, but +when informed by Mrs. Tribb that Lady Agnes was with the young man, she +had lost her temper. However, the chance of seeing Lambert was too +tempting to forego, so she marched in defiantly, ready to fight with her +rival if there was an opportunity of doing so. But the Gentile lady +declined the combat, and took no more notice of the jealous gypsy than +was absolutely necessary. On her side Chaldea ostentatiously addressed +her conversation to Lambert. + +"How are you, rye?" she asked, stopping with effort in the middle of the +room, for her impulse was to rush forward and gather him to her heaving +bosom. "Have you taken drows, my precious lord?" + +"What do you mean by drows, Chaldea?" + +"Poison, no less. You look drabbed, for sure." + +"Drabbed?" + +"Poisoned. But I waste the kalo jib on you, my Gorgious. God bless you +for a sick one, say I, and that's a bad dukkerin, the which in gentle +Romany means fortune, my Gentile swell." + +"Drop talking such nonsense," said Lambert sharply, and annoyed to see +how the girl ignored the presence of Lady Agnes. "I have a few questions +to ask you about a certain letter." + +"Kushto bak to the rye, who showed it to the lady," said Chaldea, +tossing her head so that the golden coins jingled. + +"He did not show it to me, girl," remarked Lady Agnes coldly. + +"Hai! It seems that the rumy of Hearne can lie." + +"I shall put you out of the house if you speak in that way," said +Lambert sternly. "Silver went to Lady Agnes and tried to blackmail her." + +"He's a boro pappin, and that's Romany for a large goose, my Gorgious +rye, for I asked no gold." + +"You told him to ask five thousand pounds." + +"May I die in a ditch if I did!" cried Chaldea vehemently. "Touch the +gold of the raclan I would not, though I wanted bread. The tiny rye took +the letter to give to the prastramengro, and that's a policeman, my +gentleman, so that there might be trouble. But I wished no gold from +her. Romany speaking, I should like to poison her. I love you, and--" + +"Have done with this nonsense, Chaldea. Talk like that and out you go. +I can see from what you admit, that you have been making mischief." + +"That's as true as my father," laughed the gypsy viciously. "And glad am +I to say the word, my boro rye. And why should the raclan go free-footed +when she drew her rom to be slaughtered like a pig?" + +"I did nothing of the sort," cried Agnes, with an angry look. + +"Duvel, it is true." Chaldea still addressed Lambert, and took no notice +of Agnes. "I swear it on your Bible-book. I found the letter in my +brother's tent, the day after he perished. Hearne, for Hearne he was, +and a gentle Romany also, read the letter, saying that the raclan, his +own romi, was running away with you." + +"Who wrote the letter?" demanded Agnes indignantly. + +This time Chaldea answered her fiercely. "You did, my Gorgious rani, and +lie as you may, it's the truth I tell." + +Ill as he was, Lambert could not endure seeing the girl insult Agnes. +With unexpected strength he rose from his chair and took her by the +shoulders to turn her out of the room. Chaldea laughed wildly, but did +not resist. It was Agnes who intervened. "Let her stay until we learn +the meaning of these things, Noel," she said rapidly in French. + +"She insults you," he replied, in the same tongue, but released the +girl. + +"Never mind; never mind." Agnes turned to Chaldea and reverted to +English. "Girl, you are playing a dangerous game. I wrote no letter to +the man you call Hearne, and who was my husband--Sir Hubert Pine." + +Chaldea laughed contemptuously. "Avali, that is true. The letter was +written by you to my precious rye here, and Hearne's dukkerin brought it +his way." + +"How did he get it?" + +"Those who know, know," retorted Chaldea indifferently. "Hearne's breath +was out of him before I could ask." + +"Why do you say that I wrote the letter?" + +"The tiny rye swore by his God that you did." + +"It is absolutely false!" + +"Oh, my mother, there are liars about," jeered the gypsy sceptically. +"Catch you blabbing your doings on the crook, my rani, Chore mandy--" + +"Speak English," interrupted Agnes, who was quivering with rage. + +"You can't cheat me," translated Chaldea sulkily. "You write my rye, +here, the letter swearing to run world-wide with him, and let it fall +into your rom's hands, so as to fetch him to the big house. Then did +you, my cunning gentleman," she whirled round on the astounded Lambert +viciously, "hide so quietly in the bushes to shoot. Hai! it is so, and I +love you for the boldness, my Gorgious one." + +"It is absolutely false," cried Lambert, echoing Agnes. + +"True! true! and twice times true. May I go crazy, Meg, if it isn't. You +wanted the raclan as your romi, and so plotted my brother's death. But +your sweet one will go before the Poknees, and with irons on her wrists, +and a rope round her--" + +"You she-devil!" shouted Lambert in a frenzy of rage, and forgetting in +his anger the presence of Agnes. + +"Words of honey under the moon," mocked the girl, then suddenly became +tender. "Let her go, rye, let her go. My love is all for you, and when +we pad the hoof together, those who hate us shall take off the hat." + +Lambert sat glaring at her furiously, and Agnes glided between him and +the girl, fearful lest he should spring up and insult her. But she +addressed her words to Chaldea. "Why do you think I got Mr. Lambert to +kill my husband?" she asked, wincing at having to put the question, but +seeing that it was extremely necessary to learn all she could from the +gypsy. + +The other woman drew her shawl closely round her fine form and snapped +her fingers contemptuously. "It needs no chovihani to tell. Hearne the +Romany was poor, Pine the Gentile chinked gold in his pockets. Says you +to yourself, 'He I love isn't him with money.' And says you, 'If I don't +get my true rom, the beauty of the world will clasp him to her breast.' +So you goes for to get Hearne out of the flesh, to wed the rye here on +my brother's rich possessions. Avali," she nodded vigorously. "That is +so, though 'No' you says to me, for wisdom. Red money you have gained, +my daring sister, for the blood of a Romany chal has changed the color. +But I'm no--" + +How long she would have continued to rage at Lady Agnes it is impossible +to say, for the invalid, with the artificial strength of furious anger, +sprang from his chair to turn her out of the room. Chaldea dodged him in +the alert way of a wild animal. + +"That's no love-embrace, my rye," she jibed, retreating swiftly. "Later, +later, when the moon rises, my angel," and she slipped deftly through +the door with a contemptuous laugh. Lambert would have followed, but +that Agnes caught his arm, and with tears in her eyes implored him to +remain. + +"But what can we do in the face of such danger?" she asked him when he +was quieter, and breaking down, she sobbed bitterly. + +"We must meet it boldly. Silver has the forged letter: he must be +arrested." + +"But the scandal, Noel. Dare we--" + +"Agnes, you are innocent: I am innocent. Innocence can dare all things." + +Both sick, both troubled, both conscious of the dark clouds around them, +they looked at one another in silence. Then Lambert repeated his words +with conviction, to reassure himself as much as to comfort her. + +"Innocence can dare all things," said Lambert, positively. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A FRIEND IN NEED. + + +It was natural that Lambert should talk of having Silver arrested, as in +the first flush of indignation at his audacious attempt to levy +blackmail, this appeared the most reasonable thing to do. But when Agnes +went back to The Manor, and the sick man was left alone to struggle +through a long and weary night, the reaction suggested a more cautious +dealing with the matter. Silver was a venomous little reptile, and if +brought before a magistrate would probably produce the letter which he +offered for sale at so ridiculous a price. If this was made public, +Agnes would find herself in an extremely unpleasant position. Certainly +the letter was forged, but that would not be easy to prove. And even if +it were proved and Agnes cleared her character, the necessary scandal +connected with the publicity of such a defence would be both distressing +and painful. In wishing to silence Silver, and yet avoid the +interference of the police, Lambert found himself on the horns of a +dilemma. + +Having readjusted the situation in his own mind, Lambert next day wrote +a lengthy letter to Agnes, setting forth his objections to drastic +measures. He informed her--not quite truthfully--that he hoped to be on +his feet in twenty-four hours, and then would personally attend to the +matter, although he could not say as yet what he intended to do. But +five out of the seven days of grace allowed by the blackmailer yet +remained, and much could be done in that time. "Return to town and +attend to your own and to your brother's affairs as usual," concluded +the letter. "All matters connected with Silver can be left in my hands, +and should he attempt to see you in the meantime, refer him to me." The +epistle ended with the intimation that Agnes was not to worry, as the +writer would take the whole burden on his own shoulders. The widow felt +more cheerful after this communication, and went back to her town house +to act as her lover suggested. She had every belief in Lambert's +capability to deal with the matter. + +The young man was more doubtful, for he could not see how he was to +begin unravelling this tangled skein. The interview with Chaldea had +proved futile, as she was plainly on the side of the enemy, and to apply +to Silver for information as to his intentions would merely result in a +repetition of what he had said to Lady Agnes. It only remained to lay +the whole matter before Inspector Darby, and Lambert was half inclined +to go to Wanbury for this purpose. He did not, however, undertake the +journey, for two reasons. Firstly, he wished to avoid asking for +official assistance until absolutely forced to do so; and secondly, he +was too ill to leave the cottage. The worry he felt regarding Agnes's +perilous position told on an already weakened frame, and the invalid +grew worse instead of better. + +Finally, Lambert decided to risk a journey to the camp, which was not so +very far distant, and interview Mother Cockleshell. The old lady had no +great love for Chaldea, who flouted her authority, and would not, +therefore, be very kindly disposed towards the girl. The young man +believed, in some vague way, that Chaldea had originated the conspiracy +which had to do with the letter, and was carrying her underhand plans +to a conclusion with the aid of Silver. Mother Cockleshell, who was very +shrewd, might have learned or guessed the girl's rascality, and would +assuredly thwart her aims if possible. Also the gypsy-queen would +probably know a great deal about Pine in his character of Ishmael +Hearne, since she had been acquainted with him intimately during the +early part of his life. But, whatever she knew, or whatever she did not +know, Lambert considered that it would be wise to enlist her on his +side, as the mere fact that Chaldea was one of the opposite party would +make her fight like a wild cat. And as the whole affair had to do with +the gypsies, and as Gentilla Stanley was a gypsy, it was just as well to +apply for her assistance. Nevertheless, Lambert was quite in the dark, +as to what assistance could be rendered. + +In this way the young man made his plans, only to be thwarted by the +weakness of his body. He could crawl out of bed and sit before the fire, +but in spite of all his will-power, he could not crawl as far as the +camp. Baffled in this way, he decided to send a note asking Mother +Cockleshell to call on him, although he knew that if Chaldea learned +about the visit--which she was almost certain to do--she would be placed +on her guard. But this had to be risked, and Lambert, moreover, believed +that the old woman was quite equal to dealing with the girl. However, +Fate took the matter out of his hands, and before he could even write +the invitation, a visitor arrived in the person of Miss Greeby, who +suggested a way out of the difficulty, by offering her services. Matters +came to a head within half an hour of her presenting herself in the +sitting-room. + +Miss Greeby was quite her old breezy, masculine self, and her presence +in the cottage was like a breath of moorland air blowing through the +languid atmosphere of a hot-house. She was arrayed characteristically in +a short-skirted, tailor-made gown of a brown hue and bound with brown +leather, and wore in addition a man's cap, dog-skin gloves, and heavy +laced-up boots fit to tramp miry country roads. With her fresh +complexion and red hair, and a large frame instinct with vitality, she +looked aggressively healthy, and Lambert with his failing life felt +quite a weakling beside this magnificent goddess. + +"Hallo, old fellow," cried Miss Greeby in her best man-to-man style, +"feeling chippy? Why, you do look a wreck, I must say. What's up?" + +"The fever's up and I'm down," replied Lambert, who was glad to see her, +if only to distract his painful thoughts. "It's only a touch of malaria, +my dear Clara. I shall be all right in a few days." + +"You're hopeful, I must say, Lambert. What about a doctor?" + +"I don't need one. Mrs. Tribb is nursing me." + +"Coddling you," muttered Miss Greeby, planting herself manfully in an +opposite chair and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly manner. "Fresh air +and exercise, beefsteaks and tankards of beer are what you need. Defy +Nature and you get the better of her. Kill or cure is my motto." + +"As I have strong reasons to remain alive, I shan't adopt your +prescription, Dr. Greeby," said Lambert, dryly. "What are you doing in +these parts? I thought you were shooting in Scotland." + +"So I was," admitted the visitor, frankly and laying her bludgeon--she +still carried it--across her knee. "But I grew sick of the sport. +Knocked over the birds too easy, Lambert, so there was no fun. The birds +are getting as silly as the men." + +"Well, women knock them over easy enough." + +"That's what I mean," said Miss Greeby, vigorously. "It's a rotten +world, this, unless one can get away into the wilds." + +"Why don't you go there?" + +"Well," Miss Greeby leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and +dandled the bludgeon with both hands. "I thought I'd like a change from +the rough and ready. This case of Pine's rather puzzled me, and so I'm +on the trail as a detective." + +Lambert was rather startled. "That's considerably out of your line, +Clara." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Exactly, and so I'm indulging in the novelty. One +must do something to entertain one's self, you know, Lambert. It struck +me that the gypsies know a lot more about the matter than they chose to +say, so I came down yesterday, and put up at the Garvington Arms in the +village. Here I'm going to stay until I can get at the root of the +matter." + +"What root?" + +"I wish to learn who murdered Pine, poor devil." + +"Ah," Lambert smiled. "You wish to gain the reward." + +"Not me. I've got more money than I know what to do with, as it is. +Silver is more anxious to get the cash than I am." + +"Silver! Have you seen him lately?" + +"A couple of days ago," Miss Greeby informed him easily. "He's my +secretary now, Lambert. Yes! The poor beast was chucked out of his +comfortable billet by the death of Pine, and hearing that I wanted some +one to write my letters and run my errands, and act like a tame cat +generally, he applied to me. Since I knew him pretty well through Pine, +I took him on. He's a cunning little fox, but all right when he's kept +in order. And I find him pretty useful, although I've only had him as a +secretary for a fortnight." + +Lambert did not immediately reply. The news rather amazed him, as it had +always been Miss Greeby's boast that she could manage her own business. +It was queer that she should have changed her mind in this respect, +although she was woman enough to exercise that very feminine +prerogative. But the immediate trend of Lambert's thoughts were in the +direction of seeking aid from his visitor. He could not act himself +because he was sick, and he knew that she was a capable person in +dealing with difficulties. Also, simply for the sake of something to do +she had become an amateur detective and was hunting for the trail of +Pine's assassin. It seemed to Lambert that it would not be a bad idea to +tell her of his troubles. She would, as he knew, be only too willing to +assist, and in that readiness lay his hesitation. He did not wish, if +possible, to lie under any obligation to Miss Greeby lest she should +demand in payment that he should become her husband. And yet he believed +that by this time she had overcome her desires in this direction. To +make sure, he ventured on a few cautious questions. + +"We're friends, aren't we, Clara?" he asked, after a long pause. + +"Sure," said Miss Greeby, nodding heartily. "Does it need putting into +words?" + +"I suppose not, but what I mean is that we are pals." He used the word +which he knew most appealed to her masculine affectations. + +"Sure," said Miss Greeby again, and once more heartily. "Real, honest +pals. I never believed in that stuff about the impossibility of a man +and woman being pals unless there's love rubbish about the business. At +one time, Lambert, I don't deny but what I had a feeling of that sort +for you." + +"And now?" questioned the young man with an uneasy smile. + +"Now it's gone, or rather my love has become affection, and that's quite +a different thing, old fellow. I want to see you happy, and you aren't +now. I daresay you're still crying for the moon. Eh?" she looked at him +sharply. + +"You asked me that before when you came here," said Lambert, slowly. +"And I refused to answer. I can answer now. The moon is quite beyond my +reach, so I have dried my tears." + +Miss Greeby, who was lighting a cigarette, threw away the match and +stared hard at his haggard face. "Well, I didn't expect to hear that, +now we know how the moon--" + +"Call things by their right name," interrupted Lambert, sharply. "Agnes +is now a widow, if that's what you mean." + +"It is, if you call Agnes a thing. Of course, you'll marry her since the +barrier has been removed?" + +"Meaning Pine? No! I'm not certain on that point. She is a rich widow +and I'm a poor artist. In honor bound I can't allow her to lose her +money by becoming my wife." + +Miss Greeby stared at the fire. "I heard about that beastly will," she +said, frowning. "Horribly unfair, I call it. Still, I believed that you +loved the moon--well, then, Agnes, since you wish us to be plain--and +would carry her off if you had the pluck." + +"I have never been accused of not having pluck, Clara. But there's +another thing to be considered, and that's honor." + +"Oh, bosh!" cried Miss Greeby, with boyish vigor. "You love her and she +loves you, so why not marry?" + +"I'm not worth paying two million for, Clara." + +"You are, if she loves you." + +"She does and would marry me to-morrow if I would let her. The +hesitation is on my part." + +"More fool you. If I were in her position I'd soon overcome your +scruples." + +"I think not," said Lambert delicately. + +"Oh, I think so," she retorted. "A woman always gets her own way." + +"And sometimes wrecks continents to get it." + +"I'd wreck this one, anyhow," said Miss Greeby dryly. "However, we're +pals, and if there's anything I can do--" + +"Yes, there is," said Lambert abruptly, and making up his mind to trust +her, since she showed plainly that there was no chance of love on her +part destroying friendship. "I'm sick here and can't move. Let me engage +you to act on my behalf." + +"As what, if you don't mind my asking, Lambert?" + +"As what you are for the moment, a detective." + +"Ho!" said Miss Greeby in a guttural manner. "What's that?" + +"I want you to learn on my behalf, and as my deputy, who murdered Pine." + +"So that you can marry Agnes?" + +"No. The will has stopped my chances in that direction. Her two million +forms quite an insurmountable barrier between us now, as the fact of her +being Pine's wife did formerly. Now you understand the situation, and +that I am prevented by honor from making her my wife, don't let us talk +any more on that especial subject." + +"Right you are," assented Miss Greeby affably. "Only I'll say this, that +you are too scrupulous, and if I can help you to marry Agnes I shall do +so." + +"Why?" demanded Lambert bluntly. + +"Because I'm your pal and wish to see you happy. You won't be happy, +like the Pears soap advertisement, until you get it. Agnes is the 'it.'" + +"Well, then, leave the matter alone, Clara," said Lambert, taking the +privilege of an invalid and becoming peevish. "As things stand, I can +see no chance of marrying Agnes without violating my idea of honor." + +"Then why do you wish me to help you?" demanded Miss Greeby sharply. + +"How do I wish you to help me, you mean." + +"Not at all. I know what you wish me to do; act as detective; I know +about it, my dear boy." + +"You don't," retorted Lambert, again fractious. "But if you listen I'll +tell you exactly what I mean." + +Miss Greeby made herself comfortable with a fresh cigarette, and nodded +in an easy manner, "I'm all attention, old boy. Fire away!" + +"You must regard my confidence as sacred." + +"There's my hand on it. But I should like to know why you desire to +learn who murdered Pine." + +"Because if you don't track down the assassin, Agnes will get into +trouble." + +"Ho!" ejaculated Miss Greeby, guttural again. "Go on." + +Lambert wasted no further time in preliminary explanations, but plunged +into the middle of things. In a quarter of an hour his auditor was +acquainted with the facts of a highly unpleasant case, but exhibited no +surprise when she heard what her secretary had to do with the matter. In +fact, she rather appeared to admire his acuteness in turning such shady +knowledge to his own advantage. At the same time, she considered that +Agnes had behaved in a decidedly weak manner. "If I'd been in her shoes +I'd have fired the beast out in double-quick time," said Miss Greeby +grimly. "And I'd have belted him over the head in addition." + +"Then he would have gone straight to the police." + +"Oh, no he wouldn't. One thousand reward against twenty-five thousand +blackmail isn't good enough." + +"He won't get his blackmail," said Lambert, tightening his lips. + +"You bet he won't now that I've come into the matter. But there's no +denying he's got the whip-hand so far." + +"Agnes never wrote the letter," said Lambert quickly. + +"Oh, that goes without the saying, my dear fellow. Agnes knew that if +she became a rich widow, your uneasy sense of honor would never let you +marry her. She had no reason to get rid of Pine on that score." + +"Or on any score, you may add." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Certainly! You and Agnes should have got married +and let Garvington get out of his troubles as best he could. That's what +I should have done, as I'm not an aristocrat, and can't see the use of +becoming the sacrifice for a musty, fusty old family. However, Agnes +made her bargain and kept to it. She's all right, although other people +may be not of that opinion." + +"There isn't a man or woman who dare say a word against Agnes." + +"A good many will say lots of words, should what you have told me get +into print," rejoined Miss Greeby dryly. + +"I agree with you. Therefore do I ask for your assistance. What is best +to be done, Clara?" + +"We must get the letter from Silver and learn who forged it. Once that +is made plain, the truth will come to light, since the individual who +forged and sent that letter must have fired the second shot." + +"Quite so. But Silver won't give up the letter." + +"Oh, yes, he will. He's my secretary, and I'll make him." + +"Even as your secretary he won't," said Lambert, dubiously. + +"We'll see about that, old boy. I'll heckle and harry and worry Silver +on to the gallows if he doesn't do what he's told." + +"The gallows. You don't think--" + +"Oh, I think nothing. It was to Silver's interest that Pine should live, +so I don't fancy he set the trap. It was to Chaldea's interest that Pine +should not live, since she loves you, and I don't think she is to blame. +Garvington couldn't have done it, as he has lost a good friend in Pine, +and--and--go on Lambert, suggest some one else." + +"I can't. And two out of three you mention were inside The Manor when +the second shot was fired, so can prove an alibi." + +"I'm not bothering about who fired the second shot," said Miss Greeby +leisurely, "but as to who wrote that letter. Once we find the forger, +we'll soon discover the assassin." + +"True; but how are you going about it?" + +"I shall see Silver and force him to give me the letter." + +"If you can." + +"Oh, I'll manage somehow. The little beast's a coward, and I'll bully +him into compliance." Miss Greeby spoke very confidently. "Then we'll +see the kind of paper the letter is written on, and there may be an +envelope which would show where it was posted. Of course, the forger +must be well acquainted with Agnes's handwriting." + +"That's obvious," said Lambert promptly. "Well, I suppose that your way +of starting the matter is the best. But we have only four days before +Silver makes his move." + +"When I get the letter he won't make any move," reported Miss Greeby, +and she looked very determined. + +"Let us hope so. But, Clara, before you return to town I wish you would +see Mother Cockleshell." + +"That old gypsy fortune-teller, who looks like an almshouse widow? Why?" + +"She hates Chaldea, and I suspect that Chaldea has something to do with +the matter of this conspiracy." + +"Ha!" Miss Greeby rubbed her aquiline nose. "A conspiracy. Perhaps you +may be right. But its reason?" + +Lambert colored. "Chaldea wants me to marry her, you know." + +"The minx! I know she does. I warned you against having her to sit for +you, Lambert. But there's no sense in your suggestion, my boy. It wasn't +any catch for her to get Pine killed and leave his wife free to marry +you." + +"No. And yet--and yet--hang it," the young man clutched his hair in +desperation and glared at the fire, "I can't see any motive." + +"Nor can I. Unless it is to be found in the City." + +"Gypsies are more lawless than City men," observed the other quickly, +"and Hearne would have enemies rather than Pine." + +"I don't agree with you," said Miss Greeby, rising and getting ready to +go away. "Hearne was nobody: Pine was a millionaire. Successful men have +enemies all over the shop." + +"At the inquest it was said that Pine had no enemies." + +"Oh, rubbish. A strong man like that couldn't make such a fortune +without exciting envy. I'll bet that his assassin is to be found in a +frock coat and a silk hat. However, I'll look up Mother Cockleshell, as +it is just as well to know what she thinks of this pretty gypsy hussy of +yours." + +"Not of mine. I don't care for her in the least." + +"As if that mattered. There is always one who loves and one who is +loved, as Heine says, and that is the cause of all life's tragedies. Of +this tragedy maybe, although I think some envious stockbroker may have +shot Pine as a too successful financial rival. However, we shall see +about it." + +"And see about another thing, Clara," said Lambert quickly. "Call on +Agnes and tell her that she need not worry over Silver. She expects the +Deluge in a few days, remember." + +"Write and tell her that I have the case in hand and that she needn't +trouble about Silver. I'll straighten him out." + +"I fear you are too hopeful." + +"I don't fear anything of the sort. I'll break his neck if he doesn't +obey me. I wouldn't hesitate to do it, either." + +Lambert ran his eyes over her masculine personality and laughed. "I +quite believe that, Clara. But, I say, won't you have some tea before +you go?" + +"No, thanks. I don't eat between meals." + +"Afternoon tea is a meal." + +"Nonsense. It's a weakness. I'm not Garvington. By the way, where is +he?" + +"In Paris, but he returns in a few days." + +"Then don't let him meddle with this matter, or he'll put things wrong." + +"I shall allow no one but yourself to meddle, Clara, Garvington shan't +know a single thing." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Right. All we wish kept quiet would be in the +papers if Garvington gets hold of our secrets. He's a loose-tongued +little glutton. Well, good-bye, old chap, and do look after yourself. +Good people are scarce." + +Lambert gripped her large hand. "I'm awfully obliged to you, Clara." + +"Wait until I do something before you say that, old son," she laughed +and strode towards the door. "By the way, oughtn't I to send the doctor +in?" + +"No. Confound the doctor! I'm all right. You'll see me on my legs in a +few days." + +"Then we can work together at the case. Keep your flag flying, old chap, +for I'm at the helm to steer the bark." And with this nautical farewell +she went off with a manly stride, whistling a gay tune. + +Left alone, the invalid looked into the fire, and wondered if he had +been right to trust her. After some thought, he concluded that it was +the best thing he could have done, since, in his present helpless state, +he needed some one to act as his deputy. And there was no doubt that +Miss Greeby had entirely overcome the passion she had once entertained +for him. + +"I hope Agnes will think so also," thought Lambert, when he began a +letter to the lady. "She was always rather doubtful of Clara." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE. + + +As Miss Greeby had informed Lambert, she intended to remain at the +Garvington Arms until the mystery of Pine's death was solved. But her +interview with him necessitated a rearrangement of plans, since the +incriminating letter appeared to be such an important piece of evidence. +To obtain it, Miss Greeby had decided to return to London forthwith, in +order to compel its surrender. Silver would undoubtedly show fight, but +his mistress was grimly satisfied that she would be able to manage him, +and quite counted upon gaining her end by bullying him into compliance. +When in possession of the letter she decided to submit it to Agnes and +hear what that lady had to say about it as a dexterous piece of forgery. +Then, on what was said would depend her next move in the complicated +game. Meanwhile, since she was on the spot and desired to gather all +possible evidence connected with Chaldea's apparent knowledge of the +crime, Miss Greeby went straight from Lambert's cottage to the gypsy +camp. + +Here she found the community of vagrants in the throes of an election, +or rather their excitement was connected with the deposition of Gentilla +Stanley from the Bohemian throne, and the elevation of Chaldea. Miss +Greeby mixed with the throng, dispensed a few judicious shillings and +speedily became aware of what was going on. It appeared that Chaldea, +being pretty and unscrupulous, and having gained, by cunning, a +wonderful influence amongst the younger members of the tribe, was +insisting that she should be elected its head. The older men and women, +believing wisely that it was better to have an experienced ruler than a +pretty figurehead, stood by Mother Cockleshell, therefore the camp was +divided into two parties. Tongues were used freely, and occasionally +fists came into play, while the gypsies gathered round the tent of the +old woman and listened to the duet between her and the younger aspirant +to this throne of Brentford. Miss Greeby, with crossed legs and leaning +on her bludgeon, listened to the voluble speech of Mother Cockleshell, +which was occasionally interrupted by Chaldea. The oration was delivered +in Romany, and Miss Greeby only understood such scraps of it as was +hastily translated to her by a wild-eyed girl to whom she had given a +shilling. Gentilla, less like a sober pew-opener, and more resembling +the Hecate of some witch-gathering, screamed objurgations at the pitch +of her crocked voice, and waved her skinny arms to emphasize her words, +in a most dramatic fashion. + +"Oh, ye Romans," she screeched vehemently, "are ye not fools to be +gulled by a babe with her mother's milk--and curses that it fed +her--scarcely dry on her living lips? Who am I who speak, asses of the +common? Gentilla Stanley, whose father was Pharaoh before her, and who +can call up the ghosts of dead Egyptian kings, with a tent for a palace, +and a cudgel for a sceptre, and the wisdom of our people at the service +of all." + +"Things have changed," cried out Chaldea with a mocking laugh. "For old +wisdom is dead leaves, and I am the tree which puts forth the green of +new truths to make the Gorgios take off their hats to the Romans." + +"Oh, spawn of the old devil, but you lie. Truth is truth and changes +not. Can you read the hand? can you cheat the Gentile? do you know the +law of the Poknees, and can you diddle them as has money? Says you, 'I +can!' And in that you lie, like your mother before you. Bless your +wisdom"--Mother Cockleshell made an ironical curtsey. "Age must bow +before a brat." + +"Beauty draws money to the Romans, and wheedles the Gorgios to part with +red gold. Wrinkles you have, mother, and weak wits to--" + +"Weak wits, you drab? My weakest wits are your strongest. 'Wrinkles,' +says you in your cunning way, and flaunts your brazen smoothness. I spit +on you for a fool." The old woman suited her action to the word. "Every +wrinkle is the mark of lessons learned, and them is wisdom which the +Romans take from my mouth." + +"Hear the witchly hag," cried Chaldea in her turn. "She and her musty +wisdom that puts the Romans under the feet of the Gentiles. Are not +three of our brothers in choky? have we not been turned off common and +out of field? Isn't the fire low and the pot empty, and every purse +without gold? Bad luck she has brought us," snarled the girl, pointing +an accusing finger. "And bad luck we Romans will have till she is turned +from the camp." + +"Like a dog you would send me away," shrieked Mother Cockleshell, +glancing round and seeing that Chaldea's supporters outnumbered her own. +"But I'm dangerous, and go I shall as a queen should, at my own free +will. I cast a shoe amongst you,"--she flung one of her own, hastily +snatched off her foot--"and curses gather round it. Under its heels +shall you lie, ye Romans, till time again and time once more be +accomplished. I go on my own," she turned and walked to the door of her +tent. "Alone I go to cheat the Gentiles and win my food. Take your new +queen, and with her sorrow and starvation, prison, and the kicks of the +Gorgios. So it is, as I have said, and so it shall be." + +She vanished into the tent, and the older members of the tribe, shaking +their heads over the ill-omen of her concluding words, withdrew +sorrowfully to their various habitations, in order to discuss the +situation. But the young men and women bowed down before Chaldea and +forthwith elected her their ruler, fawning on her, kissing her hands and +invoking blessings on her pretty face, that face which they hoped and +believed would bring prosperity to them. And there was no doubt that of +late, under Mother Cockleshell's leadership, the tribe had been +unfortunate in many ways. It was for this reason that Chaldea had raised +the standard of rebellion, and for this reason also she gained her +triumph. To celebrate her coronation she gave Kara, who hovered +constantly at her elbow, a couple of sovereigns, and told him to buy +food and drink. In a high state of enjoyment the gypsies dispersed in +order to prepare for the forthcoming festivity, and Chaldea, weary but +victorious, stood alone by the steps of the caravan, which was her +perambulating home. Seizing her opportunity, Miss Greeby approached. + +"My congratulations to your majesty," she said ironically. "I'm sorry +not to be able to stay for your coronation, which I presume takes place +to-night. But I have to go back to London to see a friend of yours." + +"I have no friends, my Gentile lady," retorted Chaldea, with a fiery +spark in each eye. "And what do you here amongst the gentle Romany?" + +"Gentle," Miss Greeby chuckled, "that's a new word for the row that's +been going on, my girl. Do you know me?" + +"As I know the road and the tent and the art of dukkerhin. You stay at +the big house, and you love the rye who lived in the wood." + +"Very clever of you to guess that," said Miss Greeby coolly, "but as it +happens, you are wrong. The rye is not for me and not for you. He +marries the lady he worships on his knees. Forgive me for speaking in +this high-flowing manner," ended Miss Greeby apologetically, "but in +romantic situations one must speak romantic words." + +Chaldea did not pay attention to the greater part of this speech, as +only one statement appealed to her. "The rye shall not marry the Gentile +lady," she said between her white teeth. + +"Oh, I think so, Chaldea. Your plotting has all been in vain." + +"My plotting. What do you know of that?" + +"A certain portion, my girl, and I'm going to know more when I see +Silver." + +Chaldea frowned darkly. "I know nothing of him." + +"I think you do, since you gave him a certain letter." + +"Patchessa tu adove?" asked Chaldea scornfully; then, seeing that her +visitor did not understand her, explained: "Do you believe in that?" + +"Yes," said Miss Greeby alertly. "You found the letter in Pine's tent +when he was camping here as Hearne, and passed it to Silver so that he +might ask money for it." + +"It's a lie. I swear it's a lie. I ask no money. I told the tiny rye--" + +"Silver, I presume," put in Miss Greeby carelessly. + +"Aye: Silver is his name, and a good one for him as has no gold." + +"He will get gold from Lady Agnes for the letter." + +"No. Drodi--ah bah!" broke off Chaldea. "You don't understand Romanes. I +speak the Gorgio tongue to such as you. Listen! I found the letter which +lured my brother to his death. The rani wrote that letter, and I gave it +to the tiny rye, saying: 'Tell her if she gives up the big rye free she +shall go; if not take the letter to those who deal in the law.'" + +"The police, I suppose you mean," said Miss Greeby coolly. "A very +pretty scheme, my good girl. But it won't do, you know. Lady Agnes never +wrote that letter, and had nothing to do with the death of her husband." + +"She set a trap for him," cried Chaldea fiercely, "and Hearne walked +into it like a rabbit into a snare. The big rye waited outside and +shot--" + +"That's a lie," interrupted Miss Greeby just as fiercely, and determined +to defend her friend. "He would not do such a thing." + +"Ha! but I can prove it, and will when the time is ripe. He becomes my +rom does the big rye, or round his neck goes the rope; and she dances +long-side, I swear." + +"What a bloodthirsty idea, you savage devil! And how do you propose to +prove that Mr. Lambert shot the man?" + +"Aha," sneered Chaldea contemptuously, "you take me for a fool, +saying more than I can do. But know this, my precious angel"--she +fumbled in her pocket and brought out a more or less formless piece +of lead--"what's this, may I ask? The bullet which passed through +Hearne's heart, and buried itself in a tree-trunk." + +Miss Greeby made a snatch at the article, but Chaldea was too quick for +her and slipped it again into her pocket. "You can't prove that it is +the bullet," snapped Miss Greeby glaring, for she dreaded lest its +production should incriminate Lambert, innocent though she believed him +to be. + +"Kara can prove it. He went to where Hearne was shot and saw that there +was a big tree by the blue door, and before the shrubbery. A shot fired +from behind the bushes would by chance strike the tree. The bullet which +killed my brother was not found in the heart. It passed through and was +in the tree-trunk. Kara knifed it out and brought it to me. If this," +Chaldea held up the bullet again jeeringly, "fits the pistol of the big +rye he will swing for sure. The letter hangs her and the bullet hangs +him. I want my price." + +"You won't get it, then," said Miss Greeby, eyeing the pocket into +which the girl had again dropped the bullet. "Mr. Lambert was absent in +London on that night. I heard that by chance." + +"Then you heard wrong, my Gentile lady. Avali, quite wrong. The big rye +returned on that very night and went to Lundra again in the morning." + +"Even if he did," said Miss Greeby desperately, "he did not leave the +cottage. His housekeeper can prove--" + +"Nothing," snapped Chaldea triumphantly. "She was in her bed and the +golden rye was in his bed. My brother was killed after midnight, and if +the rye took a walk then, who can say where he was?" + +"You have to prove all this, you know." + +Chaldea snapped her fingers. "First, the letter to shame her; then the +bullet to hang him. The rest comes after. My price, you know, my +Gorgious artful. I toves my own gad. It's a good proverb, lady, and true +Romany." + +"What does it mean?" + +"I wash my own shirt," said Chaldea, significantly, and sprang up the +steps of her gaily-painted caravan to shut herself in. + +"What a fool I am not to take that bullet from her," thought Miss +Greeby, standing irresolutely before the vehicle, and she cast a glance +around to see if such an idea was feasible. It was not, as she speedily +decided, for a single cry from Chaldea would bring the gypsies round to +protect their new queen. It was probable also that the girl would fight +like a wild cat; although Miss Greeby felt that she could manage her so +far. But she was not equal to fighting the whole camp of vagrants, and +so was compelled to abandon her scheme. In a somewhat discontented mood, +she turned away, feeling that, so far, Chaldea had the whip-hand. + +Then it occurred to her that she had not yet examined Mother Cockleshell +as had been her original intention when she came to the camp. Forthwith +she passed back to the tent under the elm, to interview the deposed +queen. Here, she found Gentilla Stanley placing her goods in an untidy +bundle on the back of a large gray donkey, which was her private +property. The old creature's eyes were red with weeping and her gray +hair had fallen down, so that she presented a somewhat wild appearance. +This, in connection with her employment, reminded Miss Greeby--whose +reading was wide--of a similar scene in Borrow's "Lavengro," when Mrs. +Pentulengro's mother shifted herself. And for the moment Mother +Cockleshell had just the hairy looks of Mrs. Hern, and also at the +moment, probably had the same amiable feelings. + +Feeling that the old woman detested her successful rival, Miss Greeby +approached, guessing that now was the right moment to work on her mind, +and thus to learn what she could of Chaldea's underhand doings. She +quite expected a snub, as Gentilla could scarcely be expected to answer +questions when taken up with her own troubles. But the artful creature, +seeing by a side-glance that Miss Greeby was a wealthy Gentile lady, +dropped one of her almshouse curtseys when she approached, and bundled +up her hair. A change passed over her withered face, and Miss Greeby +found herself addressing not so much a fallen queen, as a respectable +old woman who had known better days. + +"And a blessing on your sweet face, my angel," mumbled Mother +Cockleshell. "For a heart you have to feel for my sorrows." + +"Here is a sign of my feelings," said Miss Greeby, handing over a +sovereign, for she rightly judged that the gypsy would only appreciate +this outward symbol of sympathy. "Now, what do you know of Pine's +murder?" + +Mother Cockleshell, who was busy tying up the sovereign in a corner of +her respectable shawl, after biting it to make sure it was current gold, +looked up with a vacant expression. "Murder, my lady, and what should I +know of that?" + +Miss Greeby looked at her straightly. "What does Chaldea know of it?" + +A vicious pair of devils looked out of the decent widow's eyes in a +moment, and at once she became the Romany. "Hai! She knows, does she, +the drab! I hope to see her hanged." + +"For what?" + +"For killing of Hearne, may his bones rest sweetly." + +Miss Greeby suppressed an exclamation. "She accuses Lady Agnes of laying +a trap by writing a letter, and says that Mr. Lambert fired the shot." + +"Avali! Avali!" Mother Cockleshell nodded vigorously, but did not +interrupt her preparations for departure. "That she would say, since she +loves the Gorgio, and hates the rani. A rope round her neck to set the +rye free to make Chaldea--my curses on her--his true wife." + +"She couldn't have fired the shot herself, you know," went on Miss +Greeby in a musing manner. "For then she would remove an obstacle to Mr. +Lambert marrying Lady Agnes." + +"Blessings on her for a kind, Gentile lady," said Gentilla, piously, +and looking more respectable than ever, since the lurking devils had +disappeared. "But Chaldea is artful, and knows the rye." + +"What do you mean?" + +"This, my lady. Hearne, who was the Gorgio Pine, had the angel to wife, +but he did not hope to live long because of illness." + +Miss Greeby nodded. "Consumption, Pine told me." + +"If he had died natural," pursued Mother Cockleshell, pulling hard at a +strap, "maybe the Gentile lady would have married the golden rye, whom +she loves. But by the violent death, Chaldea has tangled up both in her +knots, and if they wed she will make trouble." + +"So she says. But can she?" + +"Hai! But she's a deep one, ma'am, believe me when I say so," Mother +Cockleshell nodded sapiently. "But foolish trouble has she given +herself, when the death of Hearne natural, or by the pistol-shot would +stop the marriage." + +"What do you mean?" inquired Miss Greeby once more. + +"You Gentiles are fools," said Gentilla, politely. "For you put other +things before true love. Hearne, as Pine, had much gold, and that he +left to his wife should she not marry the golden rye." + +"How do you know that?" + +"Chaldea was told so by the dead, and told me, my lady. Now the angel of +the big house would give up the gold to marry the rye, for her heart is +all for him. 'But,' says he, and tell me if I'm wrong. Says he, 'No. If +I make you my romi that would beggar you and fair it would not be, for a +Romany rye to do!' So, my lady, the red gold parts them, because it's +red money." + +"Red money?" + +"Blood money. The taint of blood is on the wealth of the dead one, and +so it divides by a curse the true hearts of the living. You see, my +lady?" + +Miss Greeby did see, and the more readily, since she had heard Lambert +express exactly the sentiments with which the old gypsy credited him. +An overstrained feeling of honor prevented him in any case from making +Agnes his wife, whether the death had come by violence or by natural +causes. But it was amazing that Gentilla should know this, and Miss +Greeby wonderingly asked her how she came by such knowledge. The +respectable widow chuckled. + +"I have witchly ways, ma'am, and the golden rye has talked many a time +to me in my tent, when I told him of the Gorgious lady's goodness to me +when ill. They love--aye, that is sure--but the money divides their +hearts, and that is foolish. Chaldea had no need to shoot to keep them +apart." + +"How do you know she shot Pine?" + +"Oh, I can say nothing the Poknees would listen to," said Mother +Cockleshell readily. "For I speak only as I think, and not as I know. +But the child was impatient for joy, and hoped by placing the cruel will +between true hearts to gain that of the golden rye for her own part. But +that she will not. Ha! Ha! Nor you, my lady, nor you." + +"Me?" Miss Greeby colored even redder than she was by nature. + +Gentilla looked at her shrewdly. "La! La! La! La!" she croaked. "Age +brings a mighty wisdom. They were fools to throw me out," and she jerked +her grizzled head in the direction of the caravans and tents. + +"Don't talk rubbish, you old donkey! Mr. Lambert is only my friend." + +"You're a woman and he's a man," said Mother Cockleshell sententiously. + +"We are chums, pals, whatever you like to call us. I want to see him +happy." + +"He will never be happy, my lady, unless he marries the rani. And death, +by bringing the money between their true love, has divided them forever, +unless the golden rye puts his heart before his fear of silly chatter +for them he moves amongst. The child was right to shoot Hearne, so far, +although she could have waited and gained the same end. The rye is free +to marry her, or to marry you, ma'am, but never to marry the angel, +unless--" Mother Cockleshell adjusted the bundle carefully on the +donkey, and then cut a long switch from the tree. + +"I don't want to marry Mr. Lambert," said Miss Greeby decisively. "And +I'll take care that Chaldea doesn't!" + +Gentilla chuckled again. "Oh, trust you for that." + +"As to Chaldea shooting Pine--" + +"Leave it to me, leave it to me, ma'am," said the old gypsy with a +grandiloquent wave of her dirty hand. + +"But I wish to learn the truth and save Lady Agnes from this trouble." + +"You wish to save her?" chuckled Mother Cockleshell. "And not the golden +rye? Ah well, my angel, there are women, and women." She faced round, +and the humor died out of her wrinkled face. "You wish for help and so +have come to see me? Is it not so?" + +"Yes," said Miss Greeby tartly. "Chaldea will make trouble." + +"The child won't. I can manage her." + +Miss Greeby hitched up her broad shoulders contemptuously. "She has +managed you just now." + +"There are ways and ways, and when the hour arrives, the sun rises to +scatter the darkness," said Gentilla mystically. "Let the child win for +the moment, for my turn comes." + +"Then you know something?" + +"What I know mustn't be said till the hour strikes. But content +yourself, my Gorgious lady, with knowing that the child will make no +trouble." + +"She has parted with the letter?" + +"I know of that letter. Hearne showed it to me, and would make for the +big house, although I told him fair not to doubt his true wife." + +"How did he get the letter?" + +"That's tellings," said Mother Cockleshell with a wink of her lively +eye. + +"I've a good mind to take you to the police, and then you'd be forced +to say what you know," said Miss Greeby crossly, for the vague hints +irritated her not a little. + +The old woman cackled in evident enjoyment. "Do that, and the pot will +boil over, ma'am. I wish to help the angel rani who nursed me when I was +sick, and I have debts to pay to Chaldea. Both I do in my own witchly +way." + +"You will help me to learn the truth?" + +"Surely! Surely! my Gorgious one. And now," Mother Cockleshell gave a +tug at the donkey's mouth, "I goes my ways." + +"But where can I find you again?" + +"When the time comes the mouth will open, and them as thinks they're +high will find themselves in the dust. Aye, and maybe lower, if six feet +of good earth lies atop, and them burning in lime, uncoffined and +unblessed." + +Miss Greeby was masculine and fearless, but there was something so weird +about this mystic sentence, which hinted at capital punishment, that she +shrank back nervously. Mother Cockleshell, delighted to see that she had +made an impression, climbed on to the gray donkey and made a progress +through the camp. Passing by Chaldea's caravan she spat on it and +muttered a word or so, which did not indicate that she wished a blessing +to rest on it. Chaldea did not show herself, so the deposed queen was +accompanied to the outskirts of the wood by the elder gypsies, mourning +loudly. But when they finally halted to see the last of Mother +Cockleshell, she raised her hand and spoke authoritatively. + +"I go and I come, my children. Forget not, ye Romans, that I say so +much. When the seed needs rain it falls. Sarishan, brothers and sisters +all." And with this strange speech, mystical to the last, she rode away +into the setting sun, on the gray donkey, looking more like an almshouse +widow than ever. + +As for Miss Greeby, she strode out of the camp and out of the Abbot's +Wood, and made for the Garvington Arms, where she had left her baggage. +What Mother Cockleshell knew, she did not guess; what Mother Cockleshell +intended to do, she could not think; but she was satisfied that Chaldea +would in some way pay for her triumph. And the downfall of the girl was +evidently connected with the unravelling of the murder mystery. In a +witchly way, as the old woman would have said herself, she intended to +adjust matters. + +"I'll leave things so far in her hands," thought Miss Greeby. "Now for +Silver." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +GUESSWORK. + + +Whether Miss Greeby found a difficulty, as was probable, in getting +Silver to hand over the forged letter, or whether she had decided to +leave the solution of this mystery to Mother Cockleshell, it is +impossible to say. But she certainly did not put in an appearance at +Lady Agnes Pine's town house to report progress until after the new +year. Nor in the meantime did she visit Lambert, although she wrote to +say that she induced the secretary to delay his threatened exposure. The +position of things was therefore highly unsatisfactory, since the +consequent suspense was painful both to Agnes and her lover. And of +course the widow had been duly informed of the interview at the cottage, +and naturally expected events to move more rapidly. + +However, taking the wise advice of Isaiah to "Make no haste in time of +trouble," Agnes possessed her soul in patience, and did not seek out +Miss Greeby in any way, either by visiting or by letter. She attended at +her lawyers' offices to supervise her late husband's affairs, and had +frequent consultations with Garvington's solicitors in connection with +the freeing of the Lambert estates. Everything was going on very +satisfactorily, even to the improvement of Lambert's health, so Agnes +was not at all so ill at ease in her mind as might have been expected. +Certainly the sword of Damocles still dangled over her head, and over +the head of Lambert, but a consciousness that they were both innocent, +assured her inwardly that it would not fall. Nevertheless the beginning +of the new year found her in anything but a placid frame of mind. She +was greatly relieved when Miss Greeby at last condescended to pay her a +visit. + +Luckily Agnes was alone when the lady arrived, as Garvington and his +wife were both out enjoying themselves in their several ways. The pair +had been staying with the wealthy widow for Christmas, and had not yet +taken their departure, since Garvington always tried to live at +somebody's expense if possible. He had naturally shut up The Manor +during the festive season, as the villagers expected coals and blankets +and port wine and plum-puddings, which he had neither the money nor the +inclination to supply. In fact, the greedy little man considered that +they should ask for nothing and pay larger rents than they did. By +deserting them when peace on earth and goodwill to men prevailed, or +ought to have prevailed, he disappointed them greatly and chuckled over +their lamentations. Garvington was very human in some ways. + +However, both the corpulent little lord and his untidy wife were out +of the way when Miss Greeby was announced, and Agnes was thankful that +such was the case, since the interview was bound to be an important one. +Miss Greeby, as usual, looked large and aggressively healthy, bouncing +into the room like an india-rubber ball. Her town dress differed very +little from the garb she wore in the country, save that she had a +feather-trimmed hat instead of a man's cap, and carried an umbrella in +place of a bludgeon. A smile, which showed all her strong white teeth in +a somewhat carnivorous way, overspread her face as she shook hands +vigorously with her hostess. And Miss Greeby's grip was so friendly as +to be positively painful. + +"Here you are, Agnes, and here am I. Beastly day, ain't it? Rain and +rain and rain again. Seems as though we'd gone back to Father Noah's +times, don't it?" + +"I expected you before, Clara," remarked Lady Agnes rather hurriedly, +and too full of anxiety to discuss the weather. + +"Well, I intended to come before," confessed Miss Greeby candidly. +"Only, one thing and another prevented me!" Agnes noticed that she did +not specify the hindrances. "It was the deuce's own job to get that +letter. Oh, by the way, I suppose Lambert told you about the letter?" + +"Mr. Silver told me about it, and I told Noel," responded Agnes gravely. +"I also heard about your interview with--" + +"Oh, that's ages ago, long before Christmas. I should have gone and seen +him, to tell about my experiences at the gypsy camp, but I thought that +I would learn more before making my report as a detective. By the way, +how is Lambert, do you know?" + +"He is all right now, and is in town." + +"At his old rooms, I suppose. For how long? I want to see him." + +"For an indefinite period. Garvington has turned him out of the +cottage." + +"The deuce! What's that for?" + +"Well," said Agnes, explaining reluctantly, "you see Noel paid no rent, +as Garvington is his cousin, and when an offer came along offering a +pound a week for the place, Garvington said that he was too poor to +refuse it. So Noel has taken a small house in Kensington, and Mrs. Tribb +has been installed as his housekeeper. I wonder you didn't know these +things." + +"Why should I?" asked Miss Greeby, rather aggressively. + +"Because it is Mr. Silver who has taken the cottage." + +Miss Greeby sat up alertly. "Silver. Oh, indeed. Then that explains why +he asked me for leave to stay in the country. Said his health required +fresh air, and that London got on his nerves. Hum! hum!" Miss Greeby +bit the handle of her umbrella. "So he's taken the Abbot's Wood Cottage, +has he? I wonder what that's for?" + +"I don't know, and I don't care," said Agnes restlessly. "Of course I +could have prevented Garvington letting it to him, since he tried to +blackmail me, but I thought it was best to see the letter, and to +understand his meaning more thoroughly before telling my brother about +his impertinence. Noel wanted me to tell, but I decided not to--in the +meantime at all events." + +"Silver's meaning is not hard to understand," said Miss Greeby, drily +and feeling in her pocket. "He wants to get twenty-five thousand pounds +for this." She produced a sheet of paper dramatically. "However, I made +the little animal give it to me for nothing. Never mind what arguments +I used. I got it out of him, and brought it to show you." + +Agnes, paling slightly, took the letter and glanced over it with +surprise. + +"Well," she said, drawing a long breath, "if I had not been certain that +I never wrote such a letter, I should believe that I did. My handwriting +has certainly been imitated in a wonderfully accurate way." + +"Who imitated it?" asked Miss Greeby, who was watching her eagerly. + +"I can't say. But doesn't Mr. Silver--" + +"Oh, he knows nothing, or says that he knows nothing. All he swears to +is that Chaldea found the letter in Pine's tent the day after his +murder, and before Inspector Darby had time to search. The envelope had +been destroyed, so we don't know if the letter was posted or delivered +by hand." + +"If I had written such a letter to Noel," said Agnes quietly, "it +certainly would have been delivered by hand." + +"In which case Pine might have intercepted the messenger," put in Miss +Greeby. "It couldn't have been sent by post, or Pine would not have got +hold of it, unless he bribed Mrs. Tribb into giving it up." + +"Mrs. Tribb is not open to bribery, Clara. And as to the letter, I never +wrote it, nor did Noel ever receive it." + +"It was written from The Manor, anyhow," said Miss Greeby bluntly. "Look +at the crest and the heading. Someone in the house wrote it, if you +didn't." + +"I'm not so sure of that. The paper might have been stolen." + +"Well." Miss Greeby again bit her umbrella handle reflectively. "There's +something in that, Agnes. Chaldea told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune in the +park, and afterwards she came to the drawing-room to tell it again. I +wonder if she stole the paper while she was in the house." + +"Even if she did, an uneducated gypsy could not have forged the letter." + +"She might have got somebody to do so," suggested Miss Greeby, nodding. + +"Then the somebody must be well acquainted with my handwriting," +retorted Lady Agnes, and began to study the few lines closely. + +She might have written it herself, so much did it resemble her style of +writing. The terse communication stated that the writer, who signed +herself "Agnes Pine," would meet "her dearest Noel" outside the blue +door, shortly after midnight, and hoped that he would have the motor at +the park gates to take them to London en route to Paris. "Hubert is sure +to get a divorce," ended the letter, "and then we can marry at once and +be happy ever more." + +It was certainly a silly letter, and Agnes laughed scornfully. + +"I don't express myself in that way," she said contemptuously, and +still eyeing the writing wonderingly. "And as I respected my husband and +respect myself, I should never have thought of eloping with my cousin, +especially from Garvington's house, when I had much better and safer +chances of eloping in town. Had Noel received this, he would never have +believed that I wrote it, as I assuredly did not. And a 'motor at the +park gates,'" she read. "Why not at the postern gate, which leads to the +blue door? that would have been safer and more reasonable. Pah! I never +heard such rubbish," and she folded up the letter to slip it into her +pocket. + +Miss Greeby looked rather aghast. "Oh, you must give it back to me," she +said hurriedly. "I have to look into the case, you know." + +"I shall not give it back to you," said Agnes in a determined manner. +"It is in my possession and shall remain there. I wish to show it to +Noel." + +"And what am I to say to Silver?" + +"Whatever you like. You can manage him, you know." + +"He'll make trouble." + +"Now that he has lost this weapon"--Agnes touched her pocket--"he +can't." + +"Well"--Miss Greeby shrugged her big shoulders and stood up--"just as +you please. But it would be best to leave the letter and the case in my +hands." + +"I think not," rejoined Agnes decisively. "Noel is now quite well again, +and I prefer him to take charge of the matter himself." + +"Is that all the thanks I get for my trouble?" + +"My dear Clara," said the other cordially, "I am ever so much obliged to +you for robbing Mr. Silver of this letter. But I don't wish to put you +to any more trouble." + +"Just as you please," said Miss Greeby again, and rather sullenly. "I +wash my hands of the business, and if Silver makes trouble you have +only yourself to thank. I advise you also, Agnes, to see Mother +Cockleshell and learn what she has to say." + +"Does she know anything?" + +"She gave me certain mysterious hints that she did. But she appears to +have a great opinion of you, my dear, so she may be more open with you +than she was with me." + +"Where is she to be found?" + +"I don't know. Chaldea is queen of the tribe, which is still camped on +the outskirts of Abbot's Wood. Mother Cockleshell has gone away on her +own. Have you any idea who wrote the letter?" + +Agnes took out the forged missive again and studied it. "Not in the +least," she said, shaking her head. + +"Do you know of any one who can imitate your handwriting?" + +"Not that I know--oh," she stopped suddenly and grew as white as the +widow's cap she wore. "Oh," she said blankly. + +"What is it?" demanded Miss Greeby, on fire with curiosity. "Have you +thought of any one?" + +Agnes shook her head again and placed the letter in her pocket. "I can +think of no one," she said in a low voice. + +Miss Greeby did not entirely believe this, as the sudden hesitation and +the paleness hinted at some unexpected thought, probably connected with +the forgery. However, since she had done all she could, it was best, as +she judged, to leave things in the widow's hands. "I'm tired of the +whole business," said Miss Greeby carelessly. "It wouldn't do for me to +be a detective, as I have no staying power, and get sick of things. +Still, if you want me, you know where to send for me, and at all events +I've drawn Silver's teeth." + +"Yes, dear; thank you very much," said Agnes mechanically, so the +visitor took her leave, wondering what was rendering her hostess so +absent-minded. A very persistent thought told her that Agnes had made a +discovery in connection with the letter, but since she would not impart +that thought there was no more to be said. + +When Miss Greeby left the house and was striding down the street, Agnes +for the third time took the letter from her pocket and studied every +line of the writing. It was wonderfully like her own, she thought again, +and yet wondered both at the contents and at the signature. "I should +never have written in this way to Noel," she reflected. "And certainly +I should never have signed myself 'Agnes Pine' to so intimate a note. +However, we shall see," and with this cryptic thought she placed the +letter in her desk. + +When Garvington and his wife returned they found Agnes singularly quiet +and pale. The little man did not notice this, as he never took any +interest in other people's emotions, but his wife asked questions to +which she received no answers, and looked at Agnes uneasily, when she +saw that she did not eat any dinner to speak of. Lady Garvington was +very fond of her kind-hearted sister-in-law, and would have been glad to +know what was troubling her. But Agnes kept her worries to herself, and +insisted that Jane should go to the pantomime, as she had arranged with +some friends instead of remaining at home. But when Garvington moved to +leave the drawing-room, after drinking his coffee, his sister detained +him. + +"I want you to come to the library to write a letter for me, Freddy," +she said in a tremulous voice. + +"Can't you write it yourself?" said Garvington selfishly, as he was in a +hurry to get to his club. + +"No, dear. I am so tired," sighed Agnes, passing her hand across her +brow. + +"Then you should have kept on Silver as your secretary," grumbled +Garvington. "However, if it won't take long, I don't mind obliging you." +He followed her into the library, and took his seat at the writing +table. "Who is the letter to?" he demanded, taking up a pen in a hurry. + +"To Mr. Jarwin. I want him to find out where Gentilla Stanley is. It's +only a formal letter, so write it and sign it on my behalf." + +"Like an infernal secretary," sighed Garvington, taking paper and +squaring his elbows. "What do you want with old Mother Cockleshell?" + +"Miss Greeby was here to-day and told me that the woman knows something +about poor Hubert's death." + +Garvington's pen halted for a moment, but he did not look round. "What +can she possibly know?" he demanded irritably. + +"That's what I shall find out when Mr. Jarwin discovers her," said +Agnes, who was in a low chair near the fire. "By the way, Freddy, I am +sorry you let the Abbot's Wood Cottage to Mr. Silver." + +"Why shouldn't I?" growled Garvington, writing industriously. "Noel +didn't pay me a pound a week, and Silver does." + +"You might have a more respectable tenant," said Agnes scathingly. + +"Who says Silver isn't respectable?" he asked, looking round. + +"I do, and I have every reason to say so." + +"Oh, nonsense!" Garvington began to write again. "Silver was Pine's +secretary, and now he's Miss Greeby's. They wouldn't have engaged him +unless he was respectable, although he did start life as a pauper +toymaker. I suppose that is what you mean, Agnes. I'm surprised at your +narrowness." + +"Ah, we have not all your tolerance, Freddy. Have you finished that +letter?" + +"There you are." Garvington handed it over. "You don't want me to +address the envelope?" + +"Yes, I do," Agnes ran her eyes over the missive; "and you can add a +postscript to this, telling Mr. Jarwin he can take my motor to look for +Gentilla Stanley if he chooses." + +Garvington did as he was asked reluctantly. "Though I don't see why +Jarwin can't supply his own motors," he grumbled, "and ten to one he'll +only put an advertisement in the newspapers." + +"As if Mother Cockleshell ever saw a newspaper," retorted his sister. +"Oh, thank you, Freddy, you are good," she went on when he handed her +the letter in a newly addressed envelope; "no, don't go, I want to speak +to you about Mr. Silver." + +Garvington threw himself with a growl into a chair. "I don't know +anything about him except that he's my tenant," he complained. + +"Then it is time you did. Perhaps you are not aware that Mr. Silver +tried to blackmail me." + +"What?" the little man grew purple and exploded. "Oh, nonsense!" + +"It's anything but nonsense." Agnes rose and went to her desk to get the +forged letter. "He came to me a long time before Christmas and said that +Chaldea found this," she flourished the letter before her brother's +eyes, "in Hubert's tent when he was masquerading as Hearne." + +"A letter? What does it say?" Garvington stretched out his hand. + +Agnes drew back and returned to her seat by the fire. "I can tell you +the contents," she said coolly, "it is supposed to be written by me to +Noel and makes an appointment to meet him at the blue door on the night +of Hubert's death in order to elope." + +"Agnes, you never wrote such a letter," cried Garvington, jumping up +with a furious red face. + +His sister did not answer for a moment. She had taken the letter just +written to Jarwin by Garvington and was comparing it with that which +Miss Greeby had extorted from Silver. "No," she said in a strange voice +and becoming white, "I never wrote such a letter; but I should be glad +to know why you did." + +"I did?" Garvington retreated and his face became as white as that of +the woman who confronted him, "what the devil do you mean?" + +"I always knew that you were clever at imitating handwriting, Freddy," +said Agnes, while the two letters shook in her grasp, "we used to make a +joke of it, I remember. But it was no joke when you altered that check +Hubert gave you, and none when you imitated his signature to that +mortgage about which he told me." + +"I never--I never!" stammered the detected little scoundrel, holding on +to a chair for support. "I never--" + +"Spare me these lies," interrupted his sister scornfully, "Hubert showed +the mortgage, when it came into his possession, to me. He admitted that +his signature was legal to spare you, and also, for my sake, hushed up +the affair of the check. He warned you against playing with fire, +Freddy, and now you have done so again, to bring about his death." + +"It's a damned lie." + +"It's a damned truth," retorted Agnes fiercely. "I got you to write the +letter to Mr. Jarwin so that I might compare the signature to the one in +the forged letter. Agnes Pine in one and Agnes Pine in the other, both +with the same twists and twirls--very, very like my signature and yet +with a difference that I alone can detect. The postscript about the +motor I asked you to write because the word occurs in the forged letter. +Motor and motor--both the same." + +"It's a lie," denied Garvington again. "I have not imitated your +handwriting in the letter to Jarwin." + +"You unconsciously imitated the signature, and you have written the word +motor the same in both letters," said Agnes decisively. "I suddenly +thought of your talent for writing like other people when Clara Greeby +asked me to-day if I could guess who had forged the letter. I laid a +trap for you and you have fallen into it. And you"--she took a step +forward with fiery glance so that Garvington, retreating, nearly tumbled +over a chair--"you laid a trap for Hubert into which he fell." + +"I never did--I never did!" babbled Garvington, gray with fear. + +"Yes, you did. I swear to it. Now I understand why you threatened to +shoot any possible burglar who should come to The Manor. You learned, in +some way, I don't know how, that Hubert was with the gypsies, and, +knowing his jealous nature, you wrote this letter and let it fall into +his hands, so that he might risk being shot as a robber and a thief." + +"I--I--I--didn't shoot him," panted the man brokenly. + +"It was not for the want of trying. You broke his arm, and probably +would have followed him out to inflict a mortal wound if your accomplice +in the shrubbery had not been beforehand with you." + +"Agnes, I swear that I took Pine for a burglar, and I don't know who +shot him. Really, I don't!" + +"You liar!" said Agnes with intense scorn. "When you posted your +accompl--" + +She had no chance to finish the word, for Garvington broke in furiously +and made a great effort to assert himself. "I had no accomplice. Who +shot Pine I don't know. I never wrote the letter; I never lured him to +his death; he was more good to me alive than dead. He never--" + +"He was not more good to you alive than dead," interrupted Lady Agnes in +her turn. "For Hubert despised you for the way in which you tried to +trick him out of money. He thought you little better than a criminal, +and only hushed up your wickedness for my sake. You would have got no +more money out of him, and you know that much. By killing him you hoped +that I would get the fortune and then you could plunder me at your +leisure. Hubert was hard to manage, and you thought that I would be +easy. Well, I have got the money and you have got rid of Hubert. But I +shall punish you." + +"Punish me?" Garvington passed his tongue over his dry lips, and looked +as though in his terror he would go down on his knees to plead. + +"Oh, not by denouncing you to the police," said his sister +contemptuously. "For, bad as you are, I have to consider our family +name. But you had Hubert shot so as to get the money through me, and +now that I am in possession I shall surrender it to the person named +in the sealed envelope." + +"No! No! No! No! Don't--don't--" + +"Yes, I shall. I can do so by marrying Noel. I shall no longer consider +the financial position of the family. I have sacrificed enough, and I +shall sacrifice no more. Hubert was a good husband to me, and I was a +good and loyal wife to him; but his will insults me, and you have made +me your enemy by what you have done." + +"I did not do it. I swear I did not do it." + +"Yes, you did; and no denial on your part will make me believe +otherwise. I shall give you a few days to think over the necessity of +making a confession, and in any case I shall marry Noel." + +"And lose the money. You shan't!" + +"Shan't!" Agnes stepped forward and looked fairly into his shifty eyes. +"You are not in a position to say that, Freddy. I am mistress both of +the situation and of Hubert's millions. Go away," she pushed him toward +the door. "Take time to think over your position, and confess everything +to me." + +Garvington got out of the room as swiftly as his shaky legs could carry +him, and paused at the door to turn with a very evil face. "You daren't +split on me," he screeched. "I defy you! I defy you! You daren't split +on me." + +Alas! Agnes knew that only too well, and when he disappeared she wept +bitterly, feeling her impotence. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE LAST STRAW. + + +Lady Agnes was inaccurate when she informed Miss Greeby that her cousin +had taken a house in Kensington, since, like many women, she was +accustomed to speak in general terms, rather than in a precise way. The +young man certainly did live in the suburb she mentioned, but he had +simply rented a furnished flat in one of the cheaper streets. He was the +poorest of all the Lamberts, and could scarcely pay his club +subscriptions, much less live in the style his ancient name demanded. +The St. James's chambers had merely been lent to him by a friend, and +when the owner returned, the temporary occupant had to shift. Therefore, +on the score of economy, he hired the dingy flat and brought up Mrs. +Tribb to look after it. The little woman, on her master's account, was +disgusted with the mean surroundings. + +"When you ought to be living in a kind of Buckingham Palace, Master +Noel, as I should declare with my dying breath," she said indignantly. +"And have the title, too, if things was as they ought to be." + +"I shouldn't be much better off if I did have the title, Mrs. Tribb," +replied Lambert with a shrug. "It's common knowledge that Garvington can +scarcely keep his head above water. As an old family servant you should +know." + +"Ah, Master Noel, there's many things as I know, as I'm sorry I do +know," said Mrs. Tribb incoherently. "And them lords as is dead and +buried did waste the money, there's no denying. But some of your +cousins, Master Noel, have gone into trade and made money, more shame to +them." + +"I don't see that, Mrs. Tribb. I'd go into trade myself if I had any +head for figures. There's no disgrace in trade." + +"Not for them as isn't Lamberts, Master Noel, and far be it from me to +say so, gentry not being so rich as they used to be when my mother was a +gal. I don't hold with it though for you, sir. But now Lady Agnes having +millions and billions will make things easier for you." + +"Certainly not, Mrs. Tribb. How could I take money from her?" + +"And why not, Master Noel? if you'll excuse my making so free. As a +child she'd give you anything in the way of toys, and as a grown-up, her +head is yours if not her heart, as is--" + +"There! there! Don't talk any more," said Lambert, coloring and vexed. + +"I haven't annoyed you, sir, I hope. It's my heart as speaks." + +"I appreciate the interest you take in the family, Mrs. Tribb, but you +had better leave some things unsaid. Now, go and prepare tea, as Lady +Agnes has written saying she will be here this afternoon." + +"Oh, Master Noel, and you only tell me now. Then there ain't time to +cook them cakes she dotes on." + +But Lambert declined to argue further, and Mrs. Tribb withdrew, +murmuring that she would have to make shift with sardine sandwiches. Her +tongue was assuredly something of a nuisance, but the young man knew how +devoted she was to the family, and, since she had looked after him when +he was a child, he sanctioned in her a freedom he would not have +permitted any one else to indulge in. And it is to be feared, that the +little woman in her zeal sometimes abused her privileges. + +The sitting room was small and cramped, and atrociously furnished in an +overcrowded way. There were patterns on the wall-paper, on the carpet, +on the tablecloth and curtains, until the eye ached for a clean surface +without a design. And there were so many ill-matched colors, misused for +decorative purposes, that Lambert shuddered to the core of his artistic +soul when he beheld them. To neutralize the glaring tints, he pulled +down the blinds of the two windows which looked on to a dull suburban +roadway, and thus shut out the weak sunshine. Then he threw himself into +an uncomfortable arm-chair and sought solace in his briar root. The +future was dark, the present was disagreeable, and the past would not +bear thinking about, so intimately did it deal with the murder of Pine, +the threats of Silver, and the misery occasioned by the sacrifice of +Agnes to the family fetish. It was in the young man's mind to leave +England forthwith and begin a new life, unhampered by former troubles +and present grievances. But Agnes required help and could not be left to +struggle unaided, so Lambert silently vowed again, as he had vowed +before, to stand by her to the end. Yet so far he was unable to see what +the end would be. + +While he thus contemplated the unpleasantness of life he became aware +that the front door bell was ringing, and he heard Mrs. Tribb hurrying +along the passage. So thin were the walls, and so near the door that he +heard also the housekeeper's effusive welcome, which was cut short by a +gasp of surprise. Lambert idly wondered what caused the little woman's +astonishment, but speedily learned when Agnes appeared in the room. With +rare discretion Mrs. Tribb ushered in the visitor and then fled to the +kitchen to wonder why the widow had discarded her mourning. "And him +only planted six months, as you might say," murmured the puzzled woman. +"Whatever will Master Noel say to such goings on?" + +Master Noel said nothing, because he was too astonished to speak, and +Agnes, seeing his surprise, and guessing its cause, waited, somewhat +defiantly, for him to make an observation. She was dressed in a gray +silk frock, with a hat and gloves, and shoes to match, and drew off a +fur-lined cloak of maroon-colored velvet, when she entered the room. Her +face was somewhat pale and her eyes looked unnaturally large, but she +had a resolute expression about her mouth, which showed that she had +made up her mind. Lambert, swift, from long association, to read her +moods, wondered what conclusion she had arrived at, and proceeded to +inquire. + +"Whatever is the meaning of this?" he demanded, considerably startled. + +"This dress?" + +"Of course. Where is your widow's cap and--" + +"In the fire, and there they can remain until they are burned to ashes." + +Lambert stared harder than ever. "What does it mean?" he asked again. + +"It means," said Agnes, replying very directly, "that the victim is no +longer decked out for the sacrifice. It means, that as Hubert insulted +me by his will, I no longer intend to consider his memory." + +"But, Agnes, you respected him. You always said that you did?" + +"Quite so, until his will was read. Then when I found that his mean +jealousy--which was entirely unreasonable--had arranged to rob me of my +income by preventing my marriage with you, I ceased to have any regard +for him. Hubert knew that I loved you, and was content to take me on +those terms so long as I was loyal to him. I _was_ loyal, and did what +I could to show him gratitude for the way in which he helped the family. +Now his will has broken the bargain I respect him no longer, and for +that reason I refuse to pose any longer as a grieving widow." + +"I wonder, with these thoughts, that you posed at all," said Lambert +gloomily, and pushed forward a chair. + +"I could not make up my mind until lately what to do," explained Agnes, +sitting down gracefully, "and while I accepted his money it appeared to +me that I ought to show his memory the outward respect of crape and all +the rest of it. Now," she leaned forward and spoke meaningly, "I am +resolved to surrender the money. That breaks the link between us. The +will! the will!" she tapped an impatient foot on the carpet. "How could +you expect any woman to put up with such an insult?" + +Lambert dropped on the sofa and looked at her hard. "What's up?" he +asked anxiously. "I never saw you like this before." + +"I was not free when you last saw me," she replied dryly. + +"Oh, yes; you were a widow." + +"I mean free, in my own mind, to marry you. I am now. I don't intend to +consider the family or society, or Mr. Silver's threats, or anything +else. I have shaken off my fetters; I have discarded my ring." She +violently pulled off her glove to show that the circle of gold was +absent. "I am free, and I thank God that I am free." + +"Agnes! Agnes! I can't reduce you to poverty by marrying you. It would +not be honorable of me." + +"And would it be honorable on my part for me to keep the money of a man +I despise because his will insults me?" she retorted. + +"We argued all this before." + +"Yes, we did, and concluded to wait until we saw how the estates could +be freed before we came to any conclusion." + +"And do you see now how the estates can be freed without using Pine's +money, Agnes?" asked Lambert anxiously. + +"No. Things are ever so much worse than I thought. Garvington can hold +out for another year, but at the end of twelve months the estates will +be sold up by the person whose name is in the sealed envelope, and he +will be reduced to some hundreds a year. The Lamberts!" she waved her +arm dramatically, "are ruined, my dear; entirely ruined!" + +"And for the simple reason that you wish us to place love before duty." + +Agnes leaned forward and took his hand firmly. "Noel, you love me?" + +"Of course I do." + +"Do you love the family name better?" + +"In one way I wish to save it, in another I am willing to let it go +hang." + +"Yes. Those were my views until three or four days ago." + +"And what caused you to change your mind, dear?" + +"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me." + +"Oh." Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, +has she?" + +"Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service." + +Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greeby +really had meant to renounce her absurd passion for himself, and it was +a relief to find that she had been acting honestly. "Has she then +learned who killed Pine?" he asked cautiously. + +Lady Agnes suddenly rose and began to pace the room, twisting her gloves +and trying to control herself. Usually she was so composed that Lambert +wondered at this restlessness. He wondered still more when she burst +into violent tears, and therefore hastened to draw her back to the +chair. When she was seated he knelt beside her and passed his arm round +her neck, as distressed as she was. It was so unlike Agnes to break down +in this way, and more unlike her to sob brokenly. "Oh, I'm afraid--I'm +afraid." + +"Afraid of what, darling?" + +"I'm afraid to learn who killed my husband. He might have done so, and +yet he only fired the first shot--" + +"Agnes," Lambert rose up suddenly, "are you talking of Garvington?" + +"Yes." She leaned back and dried her tears. "In spite of what he says, +I am afraid he may be guilty." + +Lambert's heart seemed to stand still. "You talk rubbish!" he cried +angrily. + +"I wish it was. Oh, how I wish it was rubbish! But I can't be sure. Of +course, he may have meant what he says--" + +"What does he say? Tell me everything. Oh, heavens!" Lambert clutched +his smooth hair. "What does it all mean?" + +"Ruin to the Lambert family. I told you so." + +"You have only told me scraps so far. I don't understand how you can +arrive at the conclusion that Garvington is guilty. Agnes, don't go on +crying in so unnecessary a way. If things have to be faced, surely we +are strong enough to face them. Don't let our emotions make fools of us. +Stop it! Stop it!" he said sharply and stamping. "Dry your eyes and +explain matters." + +"I--I can't help my feelings," faltered Agnes, beginning to respond to +the spur, and becoming calmer. + +"Yes, you can. I don't offer you brandy or smelling salts, or anything +of the sort, because I know you to be a woman with a firm mind. Exert +your will, and compel your nerves to be calm. This exhibition is too +cheap." + +"Oh," cried Agnes indignantly, and this feeling was the one Lambert +wished to arouse, "how can you talk so?" + +"Because I love you and respect you," he retorted. + +She knew that he meant what he said, and that her firmness of mind and +self-control had always appealed to him, therefore she made a great +effort and subdued her unruly nerves. Lambert gave her no assistance, +and merely walked up and down the room while waiting for her to recover. +It was not easy for her to be herself immediately, as she really was +shaken, and privately considered that he expected too much. But pride +came to her aid, and she gradually became more composed. Meanwhile +Lambert pulled up the blind to display the ugly room in all its +deformity, and the sight--as he guessed it would--extorted an +exclamation from her. + +"Oh, how can you live in this horrid place?" she asked irrelevantly. + +"Necessity knows no law. Are you better?" + +"Yes; I am all right. But you are brutal, Noel." + +"I wouldn't have been brutal to a weaker woman," he answered. "And by +acting as I have done, I show how much I think of you." + +"Rather a strange way of showing approval. But your drastic methods have +triumphed. I am quite composed, and shall tell you of our disgrace in as +unemotional a manner as if I were reckoning pounds, shillings and +pence." + +"Disgrace?" Lambert fastened on the one word anxiously. "To us?" + +"To Garvington in the first place. But sit down and listen. I shall +tell you everything, from the moment Clara came to see me." + +Lambert nodded and resumed his seat. Agnes, with wonderful coolness, +detailed Miss Greeby's visit and production of the letter. Thence she +passed on to explain how she had tricked Garvington into confession. +"But he did not confess," interrupted Lambert at this point. + +"Not at the moment. He did yesterday in a letter to me. You see, he left +my house immediately and slept at his club. Then he went down to The +Manor and sent for Jane, who, by the way, knows nothing of what I have +explained. Here are two letters," added Agnes, taking an envelope out of +her pocket. "One is the forged one, and the other came from Garvington +yesterday. Even though he is not imitating my writing, you can see every +now and then the similarity. Perhaps there is a family resemblance in +our caligraphy." Her cousin examined the two epistles with a rather +scared look, for there was no doubt that things looked black against the +head of the family. However, he did not read Garvington's letter, but +asked Agnes to explain. "What excuse does he make for forging your +name?" asked Lambert in a business-like way, for there was no need to +rage over such a worm as Freddy. + +"A very weak one," she replied. "So weak that I scarcely believe him to +be in earnest. Besides, Freddy always was a liar. He declares that when +he went to see about getting the gypsies turned off the land, he caught +sight of Hubert. He did not speak to him, but learned the truth from +Mr. Silver, whom he forced to speak. Then he wrote the letter and let it +purposely fall into Mr. Silver's hands, and by Mr. Silver it was passed +on to Hubert. Freddy writes that he only wanted to hurt Hubert so that +he might be laid up in bed at The Manor. When he was weak--Hubert, I +mean--Freddy then intended to get all the money he could out of him." + +"He did not wish to kill Pine, then?" + +"No. And all the evidence goes to show that he only broke Hubert's arm." + +"That is true," murmured Lambert thoughtfully, "for the evidence of the +other guests and of the servants showed plainly at the inquest that the +second shot was fired outside while Garvington was indoors." + +Agnes nodded. "Yes; it really seems as though Freddy for once in his +life is telling the exact truth." + +Her cousin glanced at Garvington's lengthy letter of explanation. "Do +you really believe that he hoped to manage Pine during the illness?" + +"Well," said Agnes reluctantly, "Freddy has tremendous faith in his +powers of persuasion. Hubert would do nothing more for him since he was +such a cormorant for money. But if Hubert had been laid up with a broken +arm, it is just possible that he might have been worried into doing what +Freddy wanted, if only to get rid of his importunity." + +"Hum! It sounds weak. Garvington certainly winged Pine, so that seems to +corroborate the statement in this letter. He's such a good shot that he +could easily have killed Pine if he wanted to." + +"Then you don't think that Freddy is responsible for the death?" +inquired Agnes with a look of relief. + +Lambert appeared worried. "I think not, dear. He lured Hubert into +his own private trap so as to get him laid up and extort money. +Unfortunately, another person, aware of the trap, waited outside and +killed your poor husband." + +"According to what Freddy says, Mr. Silver knew of the trap, since he +delivered the letter to Hubert. And Mr. Silver knew that Freddy had +threatened to shoot any possible burglar. It seems to me," ended Agnes +deliberately, "that Mr. Silver is guilty." + +"But why should he shoot Pine, to whom he owed so much?" + +"I can't say." + +"And, remember, Silver was inside the house." + +"Yes," assented Lady Agnes, in dismay. "That is true. It is a great +puzzle, Noel. However, I am not trying to solve it. Clara says that Mr. +Silver will hold his tongue, and certainly as the letter is now in my +possession he cannot bring forward any evidence to show that I am +inculpated in the matter. I think the best thing to do is to let Freddy +and Mr. Silver fight out the matter between them, while we are on our +honeymoon." + +Lambert started. "Agnes! What do you mean?" + +She grew impatient. "Oh, what is the use of asking what I mean when you +know quite well, Noel? Hubert insulted me in his will, and cast a slur +on my character by forbidding me to marry you. Freddy--although he did +not fire the second shot--certainly lured Hubert to his death by forging +that letter. I don't intend to consider my husband's memory any more, +nor my brother's position. I shall never speak to him again if I can +help it, as he is a wicked little animal. I have sacrificed myself +sufficiently, and now I intend to take my own way. Let the millions go, +and let Freddy be ruined, if only to punish him for his wickedness." + +"But, dear, how can I ask you to share my poverty?" said Lambert, +greatly distressed. "I have only five hundred a year, and you have been +accustomed to such luxury." + +"I have another five hundred a year of my own," said Agnes obstinately, +"which Hubert settled on me for pin money. He refused to make any other +settlements. I have a right to that money, since I sacrificed so much, +and I shall keep it. Surely we can live on one thousand a year." + +"In England?" inquired Lambert doubtfully. "And after you have led such +a luxurious life?" + +"No," she said quickly. "I mean in the Colonies. Let us go to Australia, +or Canada, or South Africa, I don't care which, and cut ourselves off +from the past. We have suffered enough; let us now think of ourselves." + +"But are we not selfish to let the family name be disgraced?" + +"Freddy is selfish, and will disgrace it in any case," said Agnes, with +a contemptuous shrug. "What's the use of pulling him out of the mud, +when he will only sink back into it again? No, Noel, if you love me you +will marry me within the week." + +"But it's so sudden, dear," he urged, more and more distressed. "Take +time to consider. How can I rob you of millions?" + +"You won't rob me. If you refuse, I shall make over the money to some +charity, and live on my five hundred a year. Remember, Noel, what people +think of me: that I married Hubert to get his money and to become your +wife when he died, so that we could live on his wealth. We can only +prove that belief to be false by surrendering the millions and marrying +as paupers." + +"You may be right, and yet--" + +"And yet, and yet--oh," she cried, wounded, "you don't love me." + +The man did not answer, but stood looking at her with all his soul in +his eyes, and shaking from head to foot. Never before had she looked so +desirable, and never before had he felt the tides of love surge to so +high a Water-mark. "Love you!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Agnes, I +would give my soul for you." + +"Then give it." She wreathed her arms round his neck and whispered with +her warm lips close to his ear, "Give me all of you." + +"But two millions--" + +"You are worth it." + +"Darling, you will repent." + +"Repent!" She pressed him closer to her. "Repent that I exchange a +lonely life for companionship with you? Oh, my dear, how can you think +so? I am sick of money and sick of loneliness. I want you, you, you! +Noel, Noel, it is your part to woo, and here am I making all the love." + +"It is such a serious step for you to take." + +"It is the only step that I can take. I am known as a mercenary woman, +and until we marry and give up the money, everybody will think +scornfully of me. Besides, Freddy must be punished, and in no other way +can I make him suffer so much as by depriving him of the wealth he +sinned to obtain." + +"Yes. There is that view, certainly. And," Lambert gasped, "I love +you--oh, never doubt that, my darling." + +"I shall," she whispered ardently, "unless you get a special license +and marry me straightaway." + +"But Garvington and Silver--" + +"And Clara Greeby and Chaldea, who both love you," she mocked. "Let them +all fight out their troubles alone. I have had enough suffering; so have +you. So there's no more to be said. Now, sir," she added playfully, +"wilt thou take this woman to be thy wedded wife?" + +"Yes," he said, opening his arms and gathering Agnes to his heart. "But +what will people say of your marrying so soon after Pine's death?" + +"Let them say what they like and do what they like. We are going to the +Colonies and will be beyond reach of slanderous tongues. Now, let us +have tea, Noel, for I am hungry and thirsty, and quite tired out with +trying to convince you of my earnestness." + +Lambert rang for the tea. "Shall we tell Jarwin that we intend to +marry?" + +"No. We shall tell no one until we are married," she replied, and kissed +him once, twice, thrice, and again, until Mrs. Tribb entered with the +tray. Then they both sat demurely at the first of many meals which they +hoped would be the start of a new Darby and Joan existence. + +And the outcome of the interview and of the decision that was arrived at +appeared in a letter to Mr. Jarwin, of Chancery Lane. A week later he +received a communication signed by Agnes Lambert, in which she stated +that on the preceding day she had married her cousin by special license. +Mr. Jarwin had to read the epistle twice before he could grasp the +astounding fact that the woman had paid two millions for a husband. + +"She's mad, crazy, silly, insane," murmured the lawyer, then his eyes +lighted up with curiosity. "Now I shall know the name of the person in +the sealed letter who inherits," and he forthwith proceeded to his safe. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +ON THE TRAIL. + + +Great was the excitement in society when it became known--through the +medium of a newspaper paragraph--that Lady Agnes Pine had surrendered +two millions sterling to become Mrs. Noel Lambert. Some romantic people +praised her as a noble woman, who placed love above mere money, while +others loudly declared her to be a superlative fool. But one and all +agreed that she must have loved her cousin all the time, and that +clearly the marriage with the deceased millionaire had been forced on +by Garvington, for family reasons connected with the poverty of the +Lamberts. It was believed that the fat little egotist had obtained his +price for selling his sister, and that his estates had been freed from +all claims through the generosity of Pine. Of course, this was not the +case; but the fact was unknown to the general public, and Garvington was +credited with an income which he did not possess. + +The man himself was furious at having been tricked. He put it in this +way, quite oblivious to his own actions, which had brought about such a +result. He could not plead ignorance on this score, as Agnes had written +him a letter announcing her marriage, and plainly stating her reasons +for giving up her late husband's fortune. She ironically advised him to +seek out the person to whom the money would pass, and to see if he could +not plunder that individual. Garvington, angry as he was, took the +advice seriously, and sought out Jarwin. But that astute individual +declined to satisfy his curiosity, guessing what use he would make of +the information. In due time, as the solicitor said, the name of the +lucky legatee would be made public, and with this assurance Garvington +was obliged to be content. + +Meanwhile the happy pair--and they truly were extremely happy--heard +nothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame. +They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, on +the south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert had +discovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of the +moorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of the +honeymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by a +gigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak," as Noel +called her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, since +Agnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position. + +"And in the Colonies," she explained to her husband, during a moorland +ramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady.' Mrs. Noel +Lambert is good enough for me." + +"Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies." + +"We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on." + +"Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad," he answered good-humoredly. "It +may seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; but +all my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds a +week." + +"You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But remember +that I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul." + +"Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve. +Besides I hope to make a name as a painter." + +"In the Colonies?" + +"Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene does +not destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling, +if it is wise to leave England--at least until we learn who murdered +Pine." + +"Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth will +never become known." + +"It must become known, Agnes," said Lambert firmly. "Remember that +Silver and Chaldea practically accuse us of murdering your husband." + +"They know it is a lie, and won't proceed further," said Agnes +hopefully. + +"Oh, yes, they will, and Miss Greeby also." + +"Clara! Why, she is on our side." + +"Indeed she is not. Your guess that she was still in love with me turns +out to be quite correct. I received a letter from her this morning, +which was forwarded from Kensington. She reproaches me with marrying you +after the trouble she took in getting the forged letter back from +Silver." + +"But you told me that she said she would help you as a friend." + +"She did so, in order--to use an expressive phrase--to pull the wool +over my eyes. But she intended--and she puts her intention plainly in +her letter--to help me in order to secure my gratitude, and then she +counted upon my making her my wife." + +Agnes flushed. "I might have guessed that she would act in that way. +When you told me that she was helping I had a suspicion what she was +aiming at. What else does she say?" + +"Oh, all manner of things, more or less silly. She hints that I have +acted meanly in causing you to forfeit two millions, and says that no +man of honor would act in such a way." + +"I see," said Mrs. Lambert coolly. "She believed that my possession of +the money would be even a greater barrier to our coming together than +the fact of my being married to Hubert. Well, dear, what does it +matter?" + +"A great deal, Agnes," replied Noel, wrinkling his brows. "She intends +to make mischief, and she can, with the aid of Silver, who is naturally +furious at having lost his chance of blackmail. Then there's Chaldea--" + +"She can do nothing." + +"She can join forces with Miss Greeby and the secretary, and they will +do their best to get us into trouble. To defend ourselves we should have +to explain that Garvington wrote the letter, and then heaven only knows +what disgrace would befall the name." + +"But you don't believe that Freddy is guilty?" asked Agnes anxiously. + +"Oh, no. Still, he wrote that letter which lured Pine to his death, and +if such a mean act became known, he would be disgraced forever." + +"Freddy has such criminal instincts," said Mrs. Lambert gloomily, "that +I am quite sure he will sooner or later stand in the dock." + +"We must keep him out of it as long as we can," said Noel decisively. +"For that reason I intend to leave you here and go to Garvington." + +"To see Freddy?" + +"Yes, and to see Chaldea, and to call on Silver, who is living in my old +cottage. Also I wish to have a conversation with Miss Greeby. In some +way, my dear, I must settle these people, or they will make trouble. +Have you noticed, Agnes, what a number of gypsies seem to cross our +path?" + +"Yes; but there are many gypsies in Devonshire." + +"No doubt, but many gypsies do not come to this retired spot as a rule, +and yet they seem to swarm. Chaldea is having us watched." + +"For what reason?" Agnes opened her astonished eyes. + +"I wish to learn. Chaldea is now a queen, and evidently has sent +instructions to her kinsfolk in this county to keep an eye on us." + +Agnes ruminated for a few minutes. "I met Mother Cockleshell yesterday," +she observed; "but I thought nothing of it, as she belongs to +Devonshire." + +"I believe Mother Cockleshell is on our side, dear, since she is so +grateful to you for looking after her when she was sick. But Kara has +been hovering about, and we know that he is Chaldea's lover." + +"Then," said Mrs. Lambert, rising from the heather on which they had +seated themselves, "it will be best to face Mother Cockleshell and Kara +in order to learn what all this spying means." + +Lambert approved of this suggestion, and the two returned to Mrs. +"Anak's" abode to watch for the gypsies. But, although they saw two or +three, or even more during the next few days, they did not set eyes on +the Servian dwarf, or on Gentilla Stanley. Then--since it never rains +but it pours--the two came together to the inn. Agnes saw them through +the sitting-room window, and walked out boldly to confront them. Noel +was absent at the moment, so she had to conduct the examination entirely +alone. + +"Gentilla, why are you spying on me and my husband?" asked Agnes +abruptly. + +The respectable woman dropped a curtsey and clutched the shoulder of +Kara, who showed a disposition to run away. "I'm no spy, my angel," said +the old creature with a cunning glint in her eyes. "It's this one who +keeps watch." + +"For what reason?" + +"Bless you, my lady--" + +"Don't call me by my title. I've dropped it." + +"Only for a time, my dear. I have read your fortune in the stars, my +Gorgio one, and higher you will be with money and rank than ever you +have been in past days. But not with the child's approval." + +"The child. What child?" + +"Chaldea, no less. She's raging mad, as the golden rye has made you his +romi, my sweet one, and she has set many besides Kara to overlook you." + +"So Mr. Lambert and I thought. And Chaldea's reason?" + +"She would make trouble," replied Mother Cockleshell mysteriously. "But +Kara does not wish her to love the golden rye--as she still does--since +he would have the child to himself." She turned and spoke rapidly in +Romany to the small man in the faded green coat. + +Kara listened with twinkling eyes, and pulling at his heavy beard with +one hand, while he held the neck of his violin with the other. When +Mother Cockleshell ceased he poured out a flood of the kalo jib with +much gesticulation, and in a voice which boomed like a gong. Of course, +Mrs. Lambert did not understand a word of his speech, and looked +inquiringly at Gentilla. + +"Kara says," translated the woman hurriedly, "that he is your friend, +since he is glad you are the golden rye's romi. Ever since you left +Lundra the child has set him and others to spy on you. She makes +mischief, does the child in her witchly way." + +"Ask him," said Agnes, indicating the dwarf, "if he knows who murdered +my late husband?" + +Gentilla asked the question and translated the reply. "He knows nothing, +but the child knows much. I go back to the wood in Hengishire, my dear, +to bring about much that will astonish Chaldea--curses on her evil +heart. Tell the rye to meet me at his old cottage in a week. Then the +wrong will be made right," ended Mother Cockleshell, speaking quite in +the style of Meg Merrilees, and very grandiloquently. "And happiness +will be yours. By this and this I bless you, my precious lady," making +several mystical signs, she turned away, forcing the reluctant Kara to +follow her. + +"But, Gentilla?" Agnes hurried in pursuit. + +"No! no, my Gorgious. It is not the time. Seven days, and seven hours, +and seven minutes will hear the striking of the moment. Sarishan, my +deary." + +Mother Cockleshell hobbled away with surprising alacrity, and Mrs. +Lambert returned thoughtfully to the inn. Evidently the old woman knew +of something which would solve the mystery, else she would scarcely have +asked Noel to meet her in Hengishire. And being an enemy to Chaldea, who +had deposed her, Agnes was quite sure that Gentilla would work her +hardest to thwart the younger gypsy's plans. It flashed across her mind +that Chaldea herself might have murdered Pine. But since his death would +have removed the barrier between Lambert and herself, Agnes could not +believe that Chaldea was guilty. The affair seemed to become more +involved every time it was looked into. + +However, Mrs. Lambert related to her husband that same evening all that +had taken place, and duly delivered the old gypsy's message. Noel +listened quietly and nodded. He made up his mind to keep the appointment +in Abbot's Wood the moment he received the intelligence. "And you can +stay here, Agnes," he said. + +"No, no," she pleaded. "I wish to be beside you." + +"There may be danger, my dear. Chaldea will not stick at a trifle to +revenge herself, you know." + +"All the more reason that I should be with you," insisted Agnes. +"Besides, these wretches are plotting against me as much as against you, +so it is only fair that I should be on the spot to defend myself." + +"You have a husband to defend you now, Agnes. Still, as I know you will +be anxious if I leave you in this out-of-the-way place, it will be best +for us both to go to London. There is a telephone at Wanbury, and I can +communicate with you at once should it be necessary." + +"Of course it will be necessary," said Mrs. Lambert with fond +impatience. "I shall worry dreadfully to think that you are in danger. +I don't wish to lose you now that we are together." + +"You can depend upon my keeping out of danger, for your sake, dear," +said the young man, caressing her. "Moreover, Mother Cockleshell will +look after me should Chaldea try any of her Romany tricks. Stay in town, +darling." + +"Oh, dear me, that flat is so dingy, and lonely, and disagreeable." + +"You shan't remain at the flat. There's a very pleasant hotel near Hyde +Park where we can put up." + +"It's so expensive." + +"Never mind the expense, just now. When everything is square we can +consider economy. But I shall not be easy in my mind until poor Pine's +murderer is in custody." + +"I only hope Garvington won't be found to be an accomplice," said Agnes, +with a shiver. "Bad as he is, I can't help remembering that he is my +brother." + +"And the head of the Lamberts," added her husband gravely. "You may be +sure that I shall try and save the name from disgrace." + +"It's a dismal ending to our honeymoon." + +"Let us look upon it as the last hedge of trouble which has to be +jumped." + +Agnes laughed at this quaint way of putting things, and cheered up. For +the next few days they did their best to enjoy to the full the golden +hours of love, and peace which remained, and then departed, to the +unfeigned regret of Mrs. "Anak." But present pleasure meant future +trouble, so the happy pair--and they were happy in spite of the lowering +clouds--were forced to leave their temporary paradise in order to baffle +their enemies. Miss Greeby, Chaldea, Silver, and perhaps Garvington, +were all arrayed against them, so a conflict could not possibly be +avoided. + +Agnes took up her abode in the private hotel near the Park which Lambert +had referred to, and was very comfortable, although she did not enjoy +that luxury with which Pine's care had formerly surrounded her. Having +seen that she had all she required, Noel took the train to Wanbury, and +thence drove in a hired fly to Garvington, where he put up at the +village inn. It was late at night when he arrived, so it might have been +expected that few would have noted his coming. This was true, but among +the few was Chaldea, who still camped with her tribe in Abbot's Wood. +Whosoever now owned the property on mortgage, evidently did not desire +to send the gypsies packing, and, of course, Garvington, not having the +power, could not do so. + +Thus it happened that while Lambert was breakfasting next morning, +somewhere about ten o'clock, word was brought to him by the landlady +that a gypsy wished to see him. The young man at once thought that +Mother Cockleshell had called to adjust the situation, and gave orders +that she should be admitted. He was startled and ill-pleased when +Chaldea made her appearance. She looked as handsome as ever, but her +face wore a sullen, vicious look, which augured ill for a peaceful +interview. + +"So you cheated me after all, rye?" was her greeting, and her eyes +sparkled with anger at the sight of the man she had lost. + +"Don't be a fool, girl," said Lambert, purposely rough, for her +persistence irritated him. "You know that I never loved you." + +"Am I so ugly then?" demanded the girl bitterly. + +"That remark is beside the point," said the man coldly. "And I am not +going to discuss such things with you. But I should like to know why you +set spies on me when I was in Devonshire?" + +Chaldea's eyes sparkled still more, and she taunted him. "Oh, the clever +one that you are, to know that I had you watched. Aye, and I did, my +rye. From the time you left the cottage you were under the looks of my +people." + +"Why, may I ask?" + +"Because I want revenge," cried Chaldea, stepping forward and striking +so hard a blow on the table that the dishes jumped. "You scorned me, and +now you shall pay for that scorn." + +"Don't be melodramatic, please. What can you do to harm me, I should +like to know, you silly creature?" + +"I can prove that you murdered my brother Hearne." + +"Oh, can you, and in what way?" + +"I have the bullet which killed him," said the gypsy, speaking very fast +so as to prevent interruption. "Kara knifed it out of the tree-trunk +which grows near the shrubbery. If I take it to the police and it fits +your pistol, then where will you be, my precious cheat?" + +Lambert looked at her thoughtfully. If she really did possess the bullet +he would be able to learn if Garvington had fired the second shot, since +it would fit the barrel of his revolver. So far as he was concerned, +when coming to live in the Abbot's Wood Cottage, he had left all his +weapons stored in London, and would be able to prove that such was the +case. He did not fear for himself, as Chaldea's malice could not hurt +him in this way, but he wondered if it would be wise to take her to The +Manor, where Garvington was in residence, in order to test the fitting +of the bullet. Finally, he decided to risk doing so, as in this way he +might be able to force the girl's hand and learn how much she really +knew. If aware that Garvington was the culprit, she would exhibit no +surprise did the bullet fit the barrel of that gentleman's revolver. And +should it be proved that she knew the truth, she would not dare to say +anything to the police, lest she should be brought into the matter, as +an accomplice after the fact. Chaldea misunderstood his silence, while +he was thinking in this way, and smiled mockingly with a toss of her +head. + +"Ah, the rye is afraid. His sin has come home to him," she sneered. +"Hai, you are at my feet now, my Gorgious one." + +"I think not," said Lambert coolly, and rose to put on his cap. "Come +with me, Chaldea. We go to The Manor." + +"And what would I do in the boro rye's ken, my precious?" + +Lambert ignored the question. "Have you the bullet with you?" + +"Avali," Chaldea nodded. "It lies in my pocket." + +"Then we shall see at The Manor if it fits the pistol." + +"Hai! you have left the shooter at the big house," said the girl, +falling into the trap, and thereby proved--to Lambert at least--that she +was really in the dark as regards the true criminal. + +"Lord Garvington has a revolver of mine," said the young man evasively, +although the remark was a true one, since he had presented his cousin +with a brace of revolvers some twelve months before. + +Chaldea looked at him doubtfully. "And if the bullet fits--" + +"Then you can do what you like," retorted Lambert tartly. "Come on. +I can't wait here all day listening to the rubbish you talk." + +The gypsy followed him sullenly enough, being overborne by his +peremptory manner, and anxious, if possible, to bring home the crime to +him. What she could not understand, for all her cleverness, was, why he +should be so eager to condemn himself, and so went to The Manor on the +lookout for treachery. Chaldea always judged other people by herself, +and looked upon treachery as quite necessary on certain occasions. Had +she guessed the kind of trap which Lambert was laying for her, it is +questionable if she would have fallen into it so easily. And Lambert, +even at this late hour, could not be certain if she really regarded him +as guilty, or if she was only bluffing in order to gain her ends. + +Needless to say, Garvington did not welcome his cousin enthusiastically +when he entered the library to find him waiting with Chaldea beside him. +The fat little man rushed in like a whirlwind, and, ignoring his own +shady behavior, heaped reproaches on Lambert's head. + +"I wonder you have the cheek to come here," he raged. "You and this +beast of a girl. I want no gypsies in my house, I can tell you. And +you've lost me a fortune by your selfish behavior." + +"I don't think we need talk of selfishness when you are present, +Garvington." + +"Why not? By marrying Agnes you have made her give up the money." + +"She wished to give it up to punish you," said Lambert rebukingly. + +"To punish me!" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his +head. "And what have I done?" + +Lambert laughed and shrugged his shoulders. In the face of this dense +egotism, it was impossible to argue in any way. He dismissed the subject +and got to business, as he did not wish to remain longer in Garvington's +society than was absolutely necessary. + +"This girl," he said abruptly, indicating Chaldea, who stood passively +at his elbow, "has found the bullet with which Pine was shot." + +"Kara found it, my boro rye," put in the gypsy quickly, and addressing +Lord Garvington, who gurgled out his surprises, "in the tree-trunk." + +"Ah, yes," interrupted the other. "The elm which is near the shrubbery. +Then why didn't you give the bullet to the police?" + +"Do you ask that, Garvington?" inquired Lambert meaningly, and the +little man whirled round to answer with an expression of innocent +surprise. + +"Of course I do," he vociferated, growing purple with resentment. "You +don't accuse me of murdering the man who was so useful to me, I hope?" + +"I shall answer that very leading question when you bring out the +revolver with which you shot Pine on that night." + +"I only winged him," cried Garvington indignantly. "The second shot was +fired by some unknown person, as was proved clearly enough at the +inquest." + +"All the same, I wish you to produce the revolver." + +"Why?" The host looked suspicious and even anxious. + +It was Chaldea who replied, and when doing so she fished out the +battered bullet. "To see if this fits the barrel of the pistol which the +golden rye gave you, my great one," said she significantly. + +Garvington started, his color changed and he stole a queer look at the +impassive face of his cousin. "The pistol which the golden rye gave me?" +he repeated slowly and weighing the words. "Did you give me one, Noel?" + +"I gave you a couple in a case," answered Lambert without mentioning the +date of the present. "And if this bullet fits the one you used--" + +"It will prove nothing," interrupted the other hurriedly, and with a +restless movement. "I fired from the doorstep, and my bullet, after +breaking Pine's arm, must have vanished into the beyond. The shot which +killed him was fired from the shrubbery, and, it is quite easy to guess +how it passed through him and buried itself in the tree which was in the +line of fire." + +"I want to see the pistols," said Lambert insistently, and this time +Chaldea looked at him, wondering why he was so anxious to condemn +himself. + +"Oh, very well," snapped Garvington, with some reluctance, and walked +toward the door. There he paused, and evidently awaited to arrive at +some conclusion, the nature of which his cousin could not guess. "Oh, +very well," he said again, and left the room. + +"He thinks that you are a fool, as I do, my Gorgious," said Chaldea +scornfully. "You wish to hang yourself it seems, my rye." + +"Oh, I don't think that I shall be the one to be hanged. Tell me, +Chaldea, do you really believe that I am guilty?" + +"Yes," said the girl positively. "And if you had married me I should +have saved you." + +Lambert laughed, but was saved the trouble of a reply by the return of +Garvington, who trotted in to lay a mahogany case on the table. Opening +this, he took out a small revolver of beautiful workmanship. Chaldea, +desperately anxious to bring home the crime to Lambert, hastily snatched +the weapon from the little man's hand and slipped the bullet into one of +the chambers. It fitted--making allowance for its battered +condition--precisely. She uttered a cry of triumph. "So you did shoot +the Romany, my bold one," was her victorious speech. + +"Because the bullet fits the barrel of a revolver I gave to my cousin +some twelve months ago?" he inquired, smiling. + +Chaldea's face fell. "Twelve months ago!" she echoed, greatly +disappointed. + +"Yes, as Lord Garvington can swear to. So I could not have used the +weapon on that night, you see." + +"I used it," admitted Garvington readily enough. "And winged Pine." + +"Exactly. But I gave you a brace of revolvers of the same make. The +bullet which would fit one--as it does--would fit the other. I see there +is only one in the case. Where is the other?" + +Garvington's color changed and he shuffled with his feet. "I lent it to +Silver," he said in a low voice, and reluctantly. + +"Was it in Silver's possession on the night Pine was shot?" + +"Must have been. He borrowed it a week before because he feared +burglars." + +"Then," said Lambert coolly, and drawing a breath of relief, for the +tension had been great, "the inference is obvious. Silver shot Hubert +Pine." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +AN AMAZING ACCUSATION. + + +"Beng in tutes bukko!" swore Chaldea in good Romany, meaning that she +wished the devil was in some one's body. And she heartily meant what she +said, and cared little which of the two men's interior was occupied by +the enemy of mankind, since she hated both. The girl was disappointed to +think that Lambert should escape from her snare, and enraged that +Garvington's production of one revolver and his confession that Silver +had the other tended to this end. "May the pair of you burn in hell," +she cried, taking to English, so that they could understand the insult. +"Ashes may you be in the Crooked One's furnace." + +Lambert shrugged his shoulders, as he quite understood her feelings, and +did not intend to lower himself by correcting her. He addressed himself +to his cousin and turned his back on the gypsy. "Silver shot Hubert +Pine," he repeated, with his eyes on Garvington's craven face. + +"It's impossible--impossible!" returned the other hurriedly. "Silver was +shut up in the house with the rest. I saw to the windows and doors +myself, along with the butler and footmen. At the inquest--" + +"Never mind about the inquest. I know what you said there, and I am now +beginning to see why you said it." + +"What the devil do you mean?" + +"I mean," stated the other, staring hard at him, "that you knew Silver +was guilty when the inquest took place, and screened him for some +reason." + +"I didn't know; I swear I didn't know!" stuttered Garvington, wiping his +heated face, and with his lower lip trembling. + +"You must have done so," replied Lambert relentlessly. "This bullet will +fit both the revolvers I gave you, and as you passed on one to Silver--" + +"Rubbish! Bosh! Nonsense!" babbled the little man incoherently. "Until +you brought the bullet I never knew that it would fit the revolver." + +This was true, as Lambert admitted. However, he saw that Garvington was +afraid for some reason, and pressed his advantage. "Now that you see how +it fits, you must be aware that it could only have been fired from the +revolver which you gave Silver." + +"I don't see that," protested Garvington. "That bullet may fit many +revolvers." + +Lambert shook his head. "I don't think so. I had that brace of revolvers +especially manufactured, and the make is peculiar. I am quite prepared +to swear that the bullet would fit no other weapon. And--and"--he +hesitated, then faced the girl, who lingered, sullen and disappointed. +"You can go, Chaldea," said Lambert, pointing to the French window of +the library, which was wide open. + +The gypsy sauntered toward it, clutching her shawl and gritting her +white teeth together. "Oh, I go my ways, my rye, but I have not done +with you yet, may the big devil rack my bones if I have. You win +to-day--I win to-morrow, and so good day to you, and curses on you for +a bad one. The devil is a nice character--and that's you!" she screamed, +beside herself with rage. "The puro beng is a fino mush, if you will +have the kalo jib!" and with a wild cry worthy of a banshee she +disappeared and was seen running unsteadily across the lawn. Lambert +shrugged his shoulders again and turned to his miserable cousin, who had +sat down with a dogged look on his fat face. "I have got rid of her +because I wish to save the family name from disgrace," said Lambert +quietly. + +"There is no disgrace on my part. Remember to whom you are speaking." + +"I do. I speak to the head of the family, worse luck! You have done your +best to trail our name in the mud. You altered a check which Pine gave +you so as to get more money; you forged his name to a mortgage--" + +"Lies, lies, the lies of Agnes!" screamed Garvington, jumping up and +shaking his fist in puny anger. "The wicked--" + +"Speak properly of my wife, or I'll wring your neck," said Lambert +sharply. "As to what she told me being lies, it is only too true, as you +know. I read the letter you wrote confessing that you had lured Pine +here to be shot by telling falsehoods about Agnes and me." + +"I only lured him to get his arm broken so that I might nurse him when +he was ill and get some money," growled Garvington, sitting down again. + +"I am well aware of what you did and how you did it. But you gave that +forged letter to Silver so that it might be passed on to Pine." + +"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!" + +"You did. And because Silver knew too much you gave him the Abbot's Wood +Cottage at a cheap rent, or at no rent at all, for all I know. To be +quite plain, Garvington, you conspired with Silver to have Pine killed." + +"Winged--only winged, I tell you. I never shot him." + +"Your accomplice did." + +"He's not my accomplice. He was in the house--everything was locked up." + +"By you," said Lambert quickly. "So it was easy for you to leave a +window unfastened, so that Silver might get outside to hide in the +shrubbery." + +"Oh!" Garvington jumped up again, looking both pale and wicked. "You +want to put a rope round my neck, curse you." + +"That's a melodramatic speech which is not true," replied the other +coldly. "For I want to save you, or, rather, our name, from disgrace. +I won't call in the police"--Garvington winced at this word--"because +I wish to hush the matter up. But since Chaldea and Silver accuse me +and accuse Agnes of getting rid of Pine so that we might marry, it is +necessary that I should learn the exact truth." + +"I don't know it. I know nothing more than I have confessed." + +"You are such a liar that I can't believe you. However, I shall go at +once to Silver and you shall come with me." + +"I shan't!" Garvington, who was overfed and flabby and unable to hold +his own against a determined man, settled himself in his chair and +looked as obstinate as a battery mule. + +"Oh, yes, you will, you little swine," said Lambert freezingly cold. + +"How dare you call me names?" + +"Names! If I called you those you deserved I should have to annex the +vocabulary of a Texan muledriver. How such a beast as you ever got into +our family I can't conceive." + +"I am the head of the family and I order you to leave the room." + +"Oh, you do, do you? Very good. Then I go straight to Wanbury and shall +tell what I have discovered to Inspector Darby." + +"No! No! No! No!" Garvington, cornered at last, sprang from his chair +and made for his cousin with unsteady legs. "It might be unpleasant." + +"I daresay--to you. Well, will you come with me to Abbot's Wood?" + +"Yes," whimpered Garvington. "Wait till I get my cap and stick, curse +you, for an interfering beast. You don't know what you're doing." + +"Ah! then you do know something likely to reveal the truth." + +"I don't--I swear I don't! I only--" + +"Oh, damn you, get your cap, and let us be off," broke in Lambert +angrily, "for I can't be here all day listening to your lies." + +Garvington scowled and ambled out of the room, closely followed by his +cousin, who did not think it wise to lose sight of so shifty a person. +In a few minutes they were out of the house and took the path leading +from the blue door to the postern gate in the brick wall surrounding the +park. It was a frosty, sunny day, with a hard blue sky, overarching a +wintry landscape. A slight fall of snow had powdered the ground with a +film of white, and the men's feet drummed loudly on the iron earth, +which was in the grip of the frost. Garvington complained of the cold, +although he had on a fur overcoat which made him look like a baby bear. + +"You'll give me my death of cold, dragging me out like this," he moaned, +as he trotted beside his cousin. "I believe you want me to take +pneumonia so that I may die and leave you the title." + +"I should at least respect it more than you do," said Lambert with +scorn. "Why can't you be a man instead of a thing on two legs? If you +did die no one would miss you but cooks and provision dealers." + +Garvington gave him a vicious glance from his little pig's eyes, and +longed to be tall, and strong, and daring, so that he might knock him +down. But he knew that Lambert was muscular and dexterous, and would +probably break his neck if it came to a tussle. Therefore, as the stout +little lord had a great regard for his neck, he judged it best to yield +to superior force, and trotted along obediently enough. Also he became +aware within himself that it would be necessary to explain to Silver how +he had come to betray him, and that would not be easy. Silver would be +certain to make himself extremely disagreeable. Altogether the walk was +not a pleasant one for the sybarite. + +The Abbot's Wood looked bare and lean with the leaves stripped from its +many trees. Occasionally there was a fir, clothed in dark green foliage, +but for the most part the branches of the trees were naked, and quivered +constantly in the chilly breeze. Even on the outskirts of the wood one +could see right into the centre where the black monoliths--they looked +black against the snow--reared themselves grimly. To the right there was +a glimpse of gypsy fires and tents and caravans, and the sound of the +Romany tongue was borne toward them through the clear atmosphere. On +such a day it was easy both to see and hear for long distances, and for +this reason Chaldea became aware that the two men were walking toward +the cottage. + +The girl, desperately angry that she had been unable to bring Lambert to +book, had sauntered back to the camp, but had just reached it when she +caught sight of the tall figure and the short one. In a moment she knew +that Lambert and his cousin were making for Silver's abode, which was +just what she had expected them to do. At once she determined to again +adopt her former tactics, which had been successful in enabling her to +overhear the conversation between Lambert and Lady Agnes, and, following +at a respectful distance, she waited for her chance. It came when the +pair entered the cottage, for then Chaldea ran swiftly in a circle +toward the monoliths, and crouched down behind one. While peering from +behind this shelter, she saw Silver pass the window of the studio, and +felt certain that the interview, would take place in that room. Like a +serpent, as she was, the girl crawled and wriggled through the frozen +vegetation and finally managed to get under the window without being +observed. The window was closed, but by pressing her ear close to the +woodwork she was enabled to hear a great deal, if not all. Candidly +speaking, Chaldea had truly believed that Lambert had shot Pine, but +now that he had disproved the charge so easily, she became desperately +anxious to learn the truth. Lambert had escaped her, but she thought +that it might be possible to implicate his wife in the crime, which +would serve her purpose of injuring him just as well. + +Silver was not surprised to see his landlord, as it seemed that +Garvington paid him frequent visits. But he certainly showed an uneasy +amazement when Lambert stalked in behind the fat little man. Silver was +also small, and also cowardly, and also not quite at rest in his +conscience, so he shivered when he met the very direct gaze of his +unwelcome visitor. + +"You have come to look at your old house, Mr. Lambert," he remarked, +when the two made themselves comfortable by the studio fire. + +"Not at all. I have come to see you," was the grim response. + +"That is an unexpected honor," said Silver uneasily, and his eyes sought +those of Lord Garvington, who was spreading out his hands to the blaze, +looking blue with cold. He caught Silver's inquiring look. + +"I couldn't help it," said Garvington crossly. "I must look after +myself." + +Silver's smooth, foxy face became livid, and he could scarcely speak. +When he did, it was with a sickly smile. "Whatever are you talking +about, my lord?" + +"Oh, you know, d---- you! I did give you that revolver, you know." + +"The revolver?" Silver stared. "Yes, why should I deny it? I suppose you +have come to get it back?" + +"I have come to get it, Mr. Silver," put in Lambert politely. "Hand it +over to me, if you please." + +"If you like. It certainly has your name on the handle," said the +secretary so quietly that the other man was puzzled. Silver did not seem +to be so uncomfortable as he might have been. + +"The revolver was one of a pair which I had especially made when I went +to Africa some years ago," explained Lambert elaborately, and determined +to make his listener understand the situation thoroughly. "On my return +I made them a present to my cousin. I understand, Mr. Silver, that Lord +Garvington lent you one--" + +"And kept the other," interrupted the man sharply. "That is true. I was +afraid of burglars, since Lord Garvington was always talking about them, +so I asked him to lend me a weapon to defend myself with." + +"And you used it to shoot Pine," snapped Garvington, anxious to end his +suspense and get the interview over as speedily as possible. + +Silver rose from his seat in an automatic manner, and turned delicately +pale. "Are you mad?" he gasped, looking from one man to the other. + +"It's all very well you talking," whimpered Garvington with a shiver; +"but Pine was shot with that revolver I lent you." + +"It's a lie!" + +"Oh, I knew you'd say that," complained Garvington, shivering again. +"But I warned you that there might be trouble, since you carried that +letter for me, so that it might fall by chance into Pine's hands." + +"Augh!" groaned Silver, sinking back into his chair and passing his +tongue over a pair of dry, gray lips. "Hold your tongue, my lord." + +"What's the use? He knows," and Garvington jerked his head in the +direction of his cousin. "The game's up, Silver--the game's up!" + +"Oh!" Silver's eyes flashed, and he looked like a rat at bay. "So you +intend to save yourself at my expense. But it won't do, my lord. You +wrote that letter, if I carried it to the camp." + +"I have admitted to my sister and to Lambert, here, that I wrote the +letter, Silver. I had to, or get into trouble with the police, since +neither of them will listen to reason. But you suggested the plan to get +Pine winged so that he might be ill in my house, and then we could both +get money out of him. You invented the plot, and I only wrote the +letter." + +"Augh! Augh!" gulped Silver, unable to speak plainly. + +"Do you confess the truth of Lord Garvington's statement?" inquired +Lambert suavely, and fixing a merciless eye on the trapped fox. + +"No--that is--yes. He swings on the same hook as I do." + +"Indeed. Then Lord Garvington was aware that you shot Pine?" + +"I was not! I was not!" screamed the head of the Lambert family, jumping +up and clenching his hands. "I swear I never knew the truth until you +brought the bullet to the library to fit the revolver." + +"The--the--bullet!" stammered Silver, whose smooth red hair was almost +standing on end from sheer fright. + +"Yes," said Lambert, addressing him sharply. "Kara, under the direction +of Chaldea, found the bullet in the trunk of the elm tree which was in +the line of fire. She came with me to The Manor this morning, and we +found that it fitted the barrel of Lord Garvington's revolver. At the +inquest, and on unimpeachable evidence, it was proved that he fired only +the first shot, which disabled Pine without killing him. The second +shot, which pierced the man's heart, could only have come from the +second revolver, which was, and is, in your possession, Mr. Silver. The +bullet found in the tree trunk will fit no other barrel of no other +weapon. I'm prepared to swear to this." + +Silver covered his face with his hands and looked so deadly white that +Lambert believed he would faint. However, he pulled himself together, +and addressed Garvington anxiously. "You know, my lord, that you locked +up the house on that night, and that I was indoors." + +"Yes," admitted the other hesitating. "So far as I knew you certainly +were inside. It is true, Noel," he added, catching his cousin's eye. +"Even to save myself I must admit that." + +"Oh, you'd admit anything to save yourself," retorted his cousin +contemptuously, and noting the mistake in the wording of the sentence. +"But admitting that Silver was within doors doesn't save you, so far as +I can see." + +"There is no need for Lord Garvington to excuse himself," spoke up +Silver, attempting to enlist the little man on his side by defending +him. "It was proved at the inquest, as you have admitted, Mr. Lambert, +that he only fired the first shot." + +"And you fired the second." + +"I never did. I was inside and in bed. I only came down with the rest of +the guests when I heard the firing. Is that not so, my lord?" + +"Yes," admitted Garvington grudgingly. "So far as I know you had nothing +to do with the second shot." + +Silver turned a relieved face toward Lambert. "I shall confess this +much, sir," he said, trying to speak calmly and judicially. "Pine +treated me badly by taking my toy inventions and by giving me very +little money. When I was staying at The Manor I learned that Lord +Garvington had also been treated badly by Pine. He said if we could get +money that we should go shares. I knew that Pine was jealous of his +wife, and that you were at the cottage here, so I suggested that, as +Lord Garvington could imitate handwriting, he should forge a letter +purporting to come from Lady Agnes to you, saying that she intended to +elope on a certain night. Also I told Lord Garvington to talk a great +deal about shooting burglars, so as to give color to his shooting Pine." + +"It was arranged to shoot him, then?" + +"No, it wasn't," cried Garvington, glaring at Silver. "All we wanted to +do was to break Pine's arm or leg so that he might be laid up in The +Manor." + +"Yes, that is so," said Silver feverishly, and nodding. "I fancied--and +for this reason I suggested the plot--that when Pine was ill, both Lord +Garvington and myself could deal with him in an easier manner. +Also--since the business would be left in my hands--I hoped to take out +some money from various investments, and share it with Lord Garvington. +We never meant that Pine should be killed, but only reduced to weakness +so that we might force him to give us both money." + +"A very ingenious plot," said Lambert grimly and wondering how much of +the story was true. "And then?" + +"Then Lord Garvington wrote the letter, and when seeing Pine, I gave it +to him saying that while keeping watch on his wife--as he asked me to," +said Silver with an emphasis which made Lambert wince, "I had +intercepted the letter. Pine was furious, as I knew he would be, and +said that he would come to the blue door at the appointed time to +prevent the supposed elopement. I told Lord Garvington, who was ready, +and--" + +"And I went down, pretending that Pine was a burglar," said Lord +Garvington, continuing the story in a most shameless manner. "I opened +the door quite expecting to find him there. He rushed me, believing in +his blind haste that I was Agnes coming to elope with you. I shot him in +the arm, and he staggered away, while I shut the door again. Whether, on +finding his mistake, and knowing that he had met me instead of Agnes, he +intended to go away, I can't say, as I was on the wrong side of the +door. But Agnes, attracted to the window by the shot, declared--and you +heard her declare it at the inquest, Noel--that Pine walked rapidly away +and was shot just as he came abreast of the shrubbery. That's all." + +"And quite enough, too," said Lambert savagely. "You tricky pair of +beasts; I suppose you hoped to implicate me in the crime?" + +"It wasn't a crime," protested Silver; "but only a way to get money. By +going up to London you certainly delayed what we intended to do, since +we could not carry out our plan until you returned. You did for one +night, as Chaldea, who was on the watch for you, told us, and then we +acted." + +"Did Chaldea know of the trap?" + +"No! She knew nothing save that I"--it was Silver who spoke--"wanted to +know about your return. She found the letter in Pine's tent, and really +believed that Lady Agnes had written it, and that you had shot Pine. It +was to force you by threats to marry her that she gave the letter to +me." + +"And she instructed you to show it to the police," said Lambert between +his teeth, "whereas you tried to blackmail Lady Agnes." + +"I had to make my money somehow," said Silver insolently. "Pine was dead +and Lady Agnes had the coin." + +"You were to share in the twenty-five thousand pounds, I suppose?" +Lambert asked his cousin indignantly. + +"No; Silver blackmailed on his own. I hoped to get money from Agnes in +another way--as her hard-up brother that is. And if--" + +"Oh, shut up! You make me sick," interrupted Lambert, suppressing a +strong desire to choke his cousin. "You are as bad as Silver." + +"And Silver is as innocent as Lord Garvington," struck in that +gentleman, whose face was recovering its natural color. + +Lambert turned on him sharply. "I don't agree with that. You shot Pine!" + +Silver sprang up with a hysterical cry. He had judged like Agag that the +bitterness of death was past, but found that he was not yet safe. "I did +not shoot Pine," he declared, wringing his hands. "Oh, why can't you +believe me." + +"Because Garvington gave you the second revolver and with that--on the +evidence of the bullet--Pine was murdered." + +"That might be so, but--but--" Silver hesitated, and shivered and looked +round with a hunted expression in his eyes. + +"But what? You may as well explain to me." + +"I shan't--I refuse to. I am innocent! You can't hurt me!" + +Lambert brushed aside this puny rage. "Inspector Darby can. I shall go +to Wanbury this evening and tell him all." + +"No; don't do that!" cried Garvington, greatly agitated. "Think of +me--think of the family!" + +"I think of Justice! You two beasts aren't fit to be at large. I'm off," +and he made for the door. + +In a moment Silver was clutching his coat. "No, don't!" he screamed. "I +am innocent! Lord Garvington, say that I am innocent!" + +"Oh, ---- you, get out of the hole as best you can! I'm in as big a mess +as you are, unless Lambert acts decently." + +"Decently, you wicked little devil," said Lambert scornfully. "I only +propose to do what any decent man would do. You trapped Pine by means +of the letter, and Silver shot him." + +"I didn't! I didn't!" + +"You had the revolver!" + +"I hadn't. I gave it away! I lent it!" panted Silver, crying with +terror. + +"You lent it--you gave it--you liar! Who to?" + +Silver looked round again for some way of escape, but could see none. +"To Miss Greeby. She--she--she--she shot Pine. I swear she did." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MOTHER COCKLESHELL. + + +It was late in the afternoon when Lambert got back to the village inn, +and he felt both tired and bewildered. The examination of Silver had +been so long, and what he revealed so amazing, that the young man wished +to be alone, both to rest and to think over the situation. It was a very +perplexing one, as he plainly saw, since, in the light of the new +revelations, it seemed almost impossible to preserve the name of the +family from disgrace. Seated in his sitting room, with his legs +stretched out and his hands in his pockets, Lambert moodily glared at +the carpet, recalling all that had been confessed by the foxy secretary +of Miss Greeby. That he should accuse her of committing the crime seemed +unreasonable. + +According to Silver, the woman had overheard by chance the scheme to +lure Pine to The Manor. Knowing that the millionaire was coming to +Abbot's Wood, the secretary had propounded the plan to Garvington long +before the man's arrival. Hence the constant talk of the host about +burglars and his somewhat unnecessary threat to shoot any one who tried +to break into the house. The persistence of this remark had roused Miss +Greeby's curiosity, and noting that Silver and his host were frequently +in one another's company, she had seized her opportunity to listen. For +some time, so cautious were the plotters, she had heard nothing +particular, but after her recognition of Hearne as Pine when she visited +the gypsy camp she became aware that these secret talks were connected +with his presence. Then a chance remark of Garvington's--he was always +loose-tongued--gave her the clue, and by threats of exposure she managed +to make Silver confess the whole plot. Far from thwarting it she agreed +to let them carry it out, and promised secrecy, only extracting a +promise that she should be advised of the time and place for the +trapping of the millionaire. And it was this acquiescence of Miss +Greeby's which puzzled Lambert. + +On the face of it, since she was in love with him, it was better for her +own private plans that Pine should remain alive, because the marriage +placed Agnes beyond his reach. Why, then, should Miss Greeby have +removed the barrier--and at the cost of being hanged for murder? Lambert +had asked Silver this question, but had obtained no definite answer, +since the secretary protested that she had not explained her reasons. +Jokingly referring to possible burglars, she had borrowed the revolver +from Silver which he had obtained from Garvington, and it was this +action which first led the little secretary to suspect her. Afterward, +knowing that she had met Pine in Abbot's Wood, he kept a close watch on +her every action to see if she intended to take a hand in the game. But +Silver protested that he could see no reason for her doing so, and even +up to the moment when he confessed to Lambert could not conjecture why +she had acted in such a manner. + +However, it appeared that she was duly informed of the hour when Pine +would probably arrive to prevent the pretended elopement, and also +learned that he would be hanging about the blue door. When Silver +retired for the night he watched the door of her bedroom--which was in +the same wing of the mansion of his own. Also he occasionally looked out +to see if Pine had arrived, as the window of his room afforded a fair +view of the blue door and the shrubbery. For over an hour--as he told +Lambert--he divided his attention between the passage and the window. It +was while looking out of the last, and after midnight, that he saw Miss +Greeby climb out of her room and descend to the ground by means of the +ivy which formed a natural ladder. Her window was no great height from +the ground, and she was an athletic woman much given to exercise. +Wondering what she intended to do, yet afraid--because of Pine's +expected arrival--to leave the house, Silver watched her cautiously. She +was arrayed in a long black cloak with a hood, he said, but in the +brilliant moonlight he could easily distinguish her gigantic form as she +slipped into the shrubbery. When Pine arrived, Silver saw him dash at +the blue door when it was opened by Garvington, and saw him fall back +after the first shot. Then he heard the shutting of the door; +immediately afterward the opening of Lady Agnes's window, and noted that +Pine ran quickly and unsteadily down the path. As he passed the +shrubbery, the second shot came--at this point Silver simply gave the +same description as Lady Agnes did at the inquest--and then Pine fell. +Afterward Garvington and his guests came out and gathered round the +body, but Miss Greeby, slipping along the rear of the shrubbery, doubled +back to the shadow at the corner of the house. Silver, having to play +his part, did not wait to see her re-enter the mansion, but presumed she +did so by clambering up the ivy. He ran down and mingled with the guests +and servants, who were clustered round the dead man, and finally found +Miss Greeby at his elbow, artlessly inquiring what had happened. For the +time being he accepted her innocent attitude. + +Later on, when dismissed by Jarwin and in want of funds, he sought out +Miss Greeby and accused her. At first she denied the story, but finally, +as she judged that he could bring home the crime to her, she compromised +with him by giving him the post of her secretary at a good salary. When +he obtained the forged letter from Chaldea--and she learned this from +Lambert when he was ill--Miss Greeby made him give it to her, alleging +that by showing it to Agnes she could the more positively part the widow +from her lover. Miss Greeby, knowing who had written the letter, counted +upon Agnes guessing the truth, and had she not seen that it had entered +her mind, when the letter was brought to her, she would have given a +hint as to the forger's name. But Agnes's hesitation and sudden paleness +assured Miss Greeby that she guessed the truth, so the letter was left +to work its poison. Silver, of course, clamored for his blackmail, but +Miss Greeby promised to recompense him, and also threatened if he did +not hold his tongue that she would accuse him and Garvington of the +murder. Since the latter had forged the letter and the former had +borrowed the revolver which had killed Pine, it would have been +tolerably easy for Miss Greeby to substantiate her accusation. As to her +share in the crime, all she had to do was to deny that Silver had passed +the borrowed revolver on to her, and there was no way in which he could +prove that he had done so. On the whole, Silver had judged it best to +fall in with Miss Greeby's plans, and preserve silence, especially as +she was rich and could supply him with whatever money he chose to ask +for. She was in his power, and he was in her power, so it was necessary +to act on the golden rule of give and take. + +And the final statement which Silver made to Lambert intimated that +Garvington was ignorant of the truth. Until the bullet was produced in +the library to fit the revolver it had never struck Garvington that the +other weapon had been used to kill Pine. And he had honestly believed +that Silver--as was actually the case--had remained in his bedroom all +the time, until he came downstairs to play his part. As to Miss Greeby +being concerned in the matter, such an idea had never entered +Garvington's head. The little man's hesitation in producing the +revolver, when he got an inkling of the truth, was due to his dread that +if Silver was accused of the murder--and at the time it seemed as though +the secretary was guilty--he might turn king's evidence to save his +neck, and explain the very shady plot in which Garvington had been +engaged. But Lambert had forced his cousin's hand, and Silver had been +brought to book, with the result that the young man now sat in his room +at the inn, quite convinced that Miss Greeby was guilty, yet wondering +what motive had led her to act in such a murderous way. + +Also, Lambert wondered what was best to be done, in order to save the +family name. If he went to the police and had Miss Greeby arrested, the +truth of Garvington's shady dealings would certainly come to light, +especially as Silver was an accessory after the fact. On the other hand, +if he left things as they were, there was always a chance that hints +might be thrown out by Chaldea--who had everything to gain and nothing +to lose--that he and Agnes were responsible for the death of Pine. Of +course, Lambert, not knowing that Chaldea had been listening to the +conversation in the cottage, believed that the girl was ignorant of the +true state of affairs, and he wondered how he could inform her that the +actual criminal was known without risking her malignity. He wanted to +clear his character and that of his wife; likewise he wished to save the +family name. But it seemed to him that the issue of these things lay in +the hands of Chaldea, and she was bent upon injuring him if she could. +It was all very perplexing. + +It was at this point of his meditation that Mother Cockleshell arrived +at the inn. He heard her jovial voice outside and judged from its tone +that the old dame was in excellent spirits. Her visit seemed to be a +hint from heaven as to what he should do. Gentilla hated Chaldea and +loved Agnes, so Lambert felt that she would be able to help him. As soon +as possible he had her brought into the sitting room, and, having made +her sit down, closed both the door and the window, preparatory to +telling her all that he had learned. The conversation was, indeed, an +important one, and he was anxious that it should take place without +witnesses. + +"You _are_ kind, sir," said Mother Cockleshell, who had been supplied +with a glass of gin and water. "But it ain't for the likes of me to be +sitting down with the likes of you." + +"Nonsense! We must have a long talk, and I can't expect you to stand all +the time--at your age." + +"Some Gentiles ain't so anxious to save the legs of old ones," remarked +Gentilla Stanley cheerfully. "But I always did say as you were a golden +one for kindness of heart. Well, them as does what's unexpected gets +what they don't hope for." + +"I have got my heart's desire, Mother," said Lambert, sitting down and +lighting his pipe. "I am happy now." + +"Not as happy as you'd like to be, sir," said the old woman, speaking +quite in the Gentile manner, and looking like a decent charwoman. +"You've a dear wife, as I don't deny, Mr. Lambert, but money is what +you want." + +"I have enough for my needs." + +"Not for her needs, sir. She should be wrapped in cloth of gold and have +a path of flowers to tread upon." + +"It's a path of thorns just now," muttered Lambert moodily. + +"Not for long, sir; not for long. I come to put the crooked straight and +to raise a lamp to banish the dark. Very good this white satin is," said +Mother Cockleshell irrelevantly, and alluding to the gin. "And terbaccer +goes well with it, as there's no denying. You wouldn't mind my taking a +whiff, sir, would you?" and she produced a blackened clay pipe which had +seen much service. "Smoking is good for the nerves, Mr. Lambert." + +The young man handed her his pouch. "Fill up," he said, smiling at the +idea of his smoking in company with an old gypsy hag. + +"Bless you, my precious!" said Mother Cockleshell, accepting the offer +with avidity, and talking more in the Romany manner. "I allers did say +as you were what I said before you were, and that's golden, my Gorgious +one. Ahime!" she blew a wreath of blue smoke from her withered lips, +"that's food to me, my dearie, and heat to my old bones." + +Lambert nodded. "You hinted, in Devonshire, that you had something to +say, and a few moments ago you talked about putting the crooked +straight." + +"And don't the crooked need that same?" chuckled Gentilla, nodding. +"There's trouble at hand, my gentleman. The child's brewing witch's +broth, for sure." + +"Chaldea!" Lambert sat up anxiously. He mistrusted the younger gypsy +greatly, and was eager to know what she was now doing. + +"Aye! Aye! Aye!" Mother Cockleshell nodded three times like a veritable +Macbeth witch. "She came tearing, rampagious-like, to the camp an hour +or so back and put on her fine clothes--may they cleave with pain to her +skin--to go to the big city. It is true, rye. Kara ran by the side of +the donkey she rode upon--may she have an accident--to Wanbury." + +"To Wanbury?" Lambert looked startled as it crossed his mind, and not +unnaturally, that Chaldea might have gone to inform Inspector Darby +about the conversation with Garvington in the library. + +"To Wanbury first, sir, and then to Lundra." + +"How can you be certain of that?" + +"The child treated me like the devil's calls her," said Gentilla +Stanley, shaking her head angrily. "And I have no trust in her, for a +witchly wrong 'un she is. When she goes donkey-wise to Wanbury, I says +to a chal, says I, quick-like, 'Follow and watch her games!' So the chal +runs secret, behind hedges, and comes on the child at the railway line +making for Lundra. And off she goes on wheels in place of tramping the +droms in true Romany style." + +"What the deuce has she gone to London for?" Lambert asked himself in a +low voice, but Gentilla's sharp ears overheard. + +"Mischief for sure, my gentleman. Hai, but she's a bad one, that same. +But she plays and I play, with the winning for me--since the good cards +are always in the old hand. Fear nothing, my rye. She cannot hurt, +though snake that she is, her bite stings." + +The young man did not reply. He was uneasy in one way and relieved in +another. Chaldea certainly had not gone to see Inspector Darby, so she +could not have any intention of bringing the police into the matter. But +why had she gone to London? He asked himself this question and finally +put it to the old woman, who watched him with bright, twinkling eyes. + +"She's gone for mischief," answered Gentilla, nodding positively. "For +mischief's as natural to her as cheating is to a Romany chal. But I'm a +dealer of cards myself, rye, and I deal myself the best hand." + +"I wish you'd leave metaphor and come to plain speaking," cried Lambert +in an irritable tone, for the conversation was getting on his nerves by +reason of its prolixity and indirectness. + +Mother Cockleshell laughed and nodded, then emptied the ashes out of her +pipe and spoke out, irrelevantly as it would seem: "The child has taken +the hearts of the young from me," said she, shaking her grizzled head; +"but the old cling to the old. With them as trusts my wisdom, my rye, I +goes across the black water to America and leaves the silly ones to the +child. She'll get them into choky and trouble, for sure. And that's a +true dukkerin." + +"Have you the money to go to America?" + +"Money?" The old woman chuckled and hugged herself. "And why not, sir, +when Ishmael Hearne was my child. Aye, the child of my child, for I am +the bebee of Hearne, bebee being grandmother in our Romany tongue, sir." + +Lambert started from his seat, almost too astonished to speak. "Do you +mean to say that you are Pine's grandmother?" + +"Pine? Who is Pine? A Gentile I know not. Hearne he was born and Hearne +he shall be to me, though the grass is now a quilt for him. Ohone! Hai +mai! Ah, me! Woe! and woe, my gentleman. He was the child of my child +and the love of my heart," she rocked herself to and fro sorrowfully, +"like a leaf has he fallen from the tree; like the dew has he vanished +into the blackness of the great shadow. Hai mai! Hai mai! the sadness of +it." + +"Hearne your grandson?" murmured Lambert, staring at her and scarcely +able to believe her. + +"True. Yes; it is true," said Gentilla, still rocking. "He left the +road, and the tent, and the merry fire under a hedge for your Gentile +life. But a born Romany he was and no Gorgio. Ahr-r-r!" she shook +herself with disgust. "Why did he labor for gold in the Gentile manner, +when he could have chored and cheated like a true-hearted black one?" + +Her allusions to money suddenly enlightened the young man. "Yours is the +name mentioned in the sealed letter held by Jarwin?" he cried, with +genuine amazement written largely on his face. "You inherit the +millions?" + +Mother Cockleshell wiped her eyes with a corner of her shawl and +chuckled complacently. "It is so, young man, therefore can I take those +who hold to my wisdom to the great land beyond the water. Ah, I am rich +now, sir, and as a Gorgious one could I live beneath a roof-tree. But +for why, I asks you, my golden rye, when I was bred to the open and the +sky? In a tent I was born; in a tent I shall die. Should I go, Gentile, +it's longing for the free life I'd be, since Romany I am and ever shall +be. As we says in our tongue, my dear, 'It's allers the boro matcho that +pet-a-lay 'dree the panni,' though true gypsy lingo you can't call it +for sure." + +"What does it mean?" demanded Lambert, staring at the dingy possessor of +two millions sterling. + +"It's allers the largest fish that falls back into the water," +translated Mrs. Stanley. "I told that to Leland, the boro rye, and he +goes and puts the same into a book for your readings, my dearie!" then +she uttered a howl and flung up her arms. "But what matter I am rich, +when my child's child's blood calls out for vengeance. I'd give all the +red gold--and red money it is, my loved one," she added, fixing a bright +pair of eyes on Lambert, "if I could find him as shot the darling of my +heart." + +Knowing that he could trust her, and pitying her obvious sorrow, Lambert +had no hesitation in revealing the truth so far as he knew it. "It +wasn't a him who shot your grandson, but a her." + +"Hai!" Gentilla flung up her arms again, "then I was right. My old eyes +did see like a cat in the dark, though brightly shone the moon when he +fell." + +"What? You know?" Lambert started back again at this second surprise. + +"If it's a Gentile lady, I know. A red one large as a cow in the +meadows, and fierce as an unbroken colt." + +"Miss Greeby!" + +"Greeby! Greeby! So your romi told me," shrieked the old woman, throwing +up her hands in ecstasy. "Says I to her, 'Who's the foxy one?' and says +she, smiling like, 'Greeby's her name!'" + +"Why did you ask my wife that?" demanded Lambert, much astonished. + +"Hai, she was no wife of yours then, sir. Why did I ask her? Because I +saw the shooting--" + +"Of Pine--of Hearne--of your son?" + +"Of who else? of who else?" cried Mother Cockleshell, clapping her +skinny hand and paddling on the floor with her feet. "Says Ishmael to +me, 'Bebee,' says he, 'my romi is false and would run away with the +golden rye this very night as ever was.' And says I to him, 'It's not +so, son of my son, for your romi is as true as the stars and purer than +gold.' But says he, 'There's a letter,' he says, and shows it to me. +'Lies, son of my son,' says I, and calls on him to play the trustful +rom. But he pitches down the letter, and says he, 'I go this night to +stop them from paddling the hoof,' and says I to him, 'No! No!' says I. +'She's a true one.' But he goes, when all in the camp are sleeping +death-like, and I watches, and I follers, and I hides." + +"Where did you hide?" + +"Never mind, dearie. I hides securely, and sees him walking up and down +biting the lips of him and swinging his arms. Then I sees--for Oliver +was bright, and Oliver's the moon, lovey--the big Gentile woman come +round and hide in the bushes. Says I to myself, says I, 'And what's your +game?' I says, not knowing the same till she shoots and my child's child +falls dead as a hedgehog. Then she runs and I run, and all is over." + +"Why didn't you denounce her, Gentilla?" + +"And for why, my precious heart? Who would believe the old gypsy? Rather +would the Poknees say as I'd killed my dear one. No! no! Artful am I and +patient in abiding my time. But the hour strikes, as I said when I spoke +to your romi in Devonshire no less, and the foxy moll shall hang. You +see, my dear, I waited for some Gentile to speak what I could speak, to +say as what I saw was truth for sure. You speak, and now I can tell my +tale to the big policeman at Wanbury so that my son's son may sleep +quiet, knowing that the evil has come home to her as laid him low. But, +lovey, oh, lovey, and my precious one!" cried the old woman darting +forward to caress Lambert's hand in a fondling way, "tell me how you +know and what you learned. At the cottage you were, and maybe out in the +open watching the winder of her you loved." + +"No," said Lambert sharply, "I was at the cottage certainly, but in bed +and asleep. I did not hear of the crime until I was in London. In this +way I found out the truth, Mother!" and he related rapidly all that had +been discovered, bringing the narrative right up to the confession of +Silver, which he detailed at length. + +The old woman kept her sharp eyes on his expressive face and hugged his +hand every now and then, as various points in the narrative struck her. +At the end she dropped his hand and returned back to her chair +chuckling. "It's a sad dukkerin for the foxy lady," said Gentilla, +grinning like the witch she was. "Hanged she will be, and rightful +it is to be so!" + +"I agree with you," replied Lambert relentlessly. "Your evidence and +that of Silver can hang her, certainly. Yet, if she is arrested, and the +whole tale comes out in the newspapers, think of the disgrace to my +family." + +Mother Cockleshell nodded. "That's as true as true, my golden rye," she +said pondering. "And I wish not to hurt you and the rani, who was kind +to me. I go away," she rose to her feet briskly, "and I think. What will +you do?" + +"I can't say," said Lambert, doubtfully and irresolutely. "I must +consult my wife. Miss Greeby should certainly suffer for her crime, and +yet--" + +"Aye! Aye! Aye! The boro rye," she meant Garvington, "is a bad one for +sure, as we know. Shame to him is shame to you, and I wouldn't have the +rani miserable--the good kind one that she is. Wait! aye, wait, my +precious gentleman, and we shall see." + +"You will say nothing in the meantime," said Lambert, stopping her at +the door, and anxious to know exactly what were her intentions. + +"I have waited long for vengeance and I can wait longer, sir," said +Mother Cockleshell, becoming less the gypsy and more the respectable +almshouse widow. "Depend upon my keeping quiet until--" + +"Until what? Until when?" + +"Never you mind," said the woman mysteriously. "Them as sins must suffer +for the sin. But not you and her as is innocent." + +"No violence, Gentilla," said the young man, alarmed less the lawless +gypsy nature should punish Miss Greeby privately. + +"I swear there shall be no violence, rye. Wait, for the child is making +mischief, and until we knows of her doings we must be silent. Give me +your gripper, my dearie," she seized his wrist and bent back the palm of +the hand to trace the lines with a dirty finger. "Good fortune comes to +you and to her, my golden rye," she droned in true gypsy fashion. +"Money, and peace, and honor, and many children, to carry on a stainless +name. Your son shall you see, and your son's son, my noble gentleman, +and with your romi shall you go with happiness to the grave," she +dropped the hand. "So be it for a true dukkerin, and remember Gentilla +Stanley when the luck comes true." + +"But Mother, Mother," said Lambert, following her to the door, as he was +still doubtful as to her intentions concerning Miss Greeby. + +The gypsy waved him aside solemnly. "Never again will you see me, my +golden rye, if the stars speak truly, and if there be virtue in the +lines of the hand. I came into your life: I go out of your life: and +what is written shall be!" she made a mystic sign close to his face and +then nodded cheerily. + +"Duveleste rye!" was her final greeting, and she disappeared swiftly, +but the young man did not know that the Romany farewell meant, "God +bless you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE DESTINED END. + + +As might have been anticipated, Lord Garvington was in anything but a +happy frame of mind. He left Silver in almost a fainting condition, and +returned to The Manor feeling very sick himself. The two cowardly little +men had not the necessary pluck of conspirators, and now that there +seemed to be a very good chance that their nefarious doings would be +made public they were both in deadly fear of the consequences. Silver +was in the worst plight, since he was well aware that the law would +consider him to be an accessory after the fact, and that, although his +neck was not in danger, his liberty assuredly was. He was so stunned by +the storm which had broken so unexpectedly over his head, that he had +not even the sense to run away. All manly grit--what he possessed of +it--had been knocked out of him, and he could only whimper over the fire +while waiting for Lambert to act. + +Garvington was not quite so downhearted, as he knew that his cousin was +anxious to consider the fair fame of the family. Thinking thus, he felt +a trifle reassured, for the forged letter could not be made public +without a slur being cast on the name. Then, again, Garvington knew that +he was innocent of designing Pine's death, and that, even if Lambert did +inform the police, he could not be arrested. It is only just to say that +had the little man known of Miss Greeby's intention to murder the +millionaire, he would never have written the letter which lured the man +to his doom. And for two reasons: in the first place he was too cowardly +to risk his neck; and in the second Pine was of more value to him alive +than dead. Comforting himself with this reflection, he managed to +maintain a fairly calm demeanor before his wife. + +But on this night Lady Garvington was particularly exasperating, for she +constantly asked questions which the husband did not feel inclined to +answer. Having heard that Lambert was in the village, she wished to know +why he had not been asked to stay at The Manor, and defended the young +man when Garvington pointed out that an iniquitous person who had robbed +Agnes of two millions could not be tolerated by the man--Garvington +meant himself--he had wronged. Then Jane inquired why Lambert had +brought Chaldea to the house, and what had passed in the library, but +received no answer, save a growl. Finally she insisted that Freddy had +lost his appetite, which was perfectly true. + +"And I thought you liked that way of dressing a fish so much, dear," was +her wail. "I never seem to quite hit your taste." + +"Oh, bother: leave me alone, Jane. I'm worried." + +"I know you are, for you have eaten so little. What is the matter?" + +"Everything's the matter, confound your inquisitiveness. Hasn't Agnes +lost all her money because of this selfish marriage with Noel, hang him? +How the dickens do you expect us to carry on unless we borrow?" + +"Can't you get some money from the person who now inherits?" + +"Jarwin won't tell me the name." + +"But I know who it is," said Lady Garvington triumphantly. "One of the +servants who went to the gypsy camp this afternoon told my maid, and my +maid told me. The gypsies are greatly excited, and no wonder." + +Freddy stared at her. "Excited, what about?" + +"Why, about the money, dear. Don't you know?" + +"No, I don't!" shouted Freddy, breaking a glass in his irritation. "What +is it? Bother you, Jane. Don't keep me hanging on in suspense." + +"I'm sure I never do, Freddy, dear. It's Hubert's money which has gone +to his mother." + +Garvington jumped up. "Who--who--who is his mother?" he demanded, +furiously. + +"That dear old Gentilla Stanley." + +"What! What! What!" + +"Oh, Freddy," said his wife plaintively. "You make my head ache. Yes, +it's quite true. Celestine had it from William the footman. Fancy, +Gentilla having all that money. How lucky she is." + +"Oh, damn her; damn her," growled Garvington, breaking another glass. + +"Why, dear. I'm sure she's going to make good use of the money. She +says--so William told Celestine--that she would give a million to learn +for certain who murdered poor Hubert." + +"Would she? would she? would she?" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly +dropped out of his head, and he babbled, and burbled, and choked, and +spluttered, until his wife was quite alarmed. + +"Freddy, you always eat too fast. Go and lie down, dear." + +"Yes," said Garvington, rapidly making up his mind to adopt a certain +course about which he wished his wife to know nothing. "I'll lie down, +Jane." + +"And don't take any more wine," warned Jane, as she drifted out of the +dining-room. "You are quite red as it is, dear." + +But Freddy did not take this advice, but drank glass after glass until +he became pot-valiant. He needed courage, as he intended to go all by +himself to the lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage and interview Silver. It +occurred to Freddy that if he could induce the secretary to give up Miss +Greeby to justice, Mother Cockleshell, out of gratitude, might surrender +to him the sum of one million pounds. Of course, the old hag might have +been talking all round the shop, and her offer might be bluff, but it +was worth taking into consideration. Garvington, thinking that there was +no time to lose, since his cousin might be beforehand in denouncing the +guilty woman, hurried on his fur overcoat, and after leaving a lying +statement with the butler that he had gone to bed, he went out by the +useful blue door. In a few minutes he was trotting along the well-known +path making up his mind what to say to Silver. The interview did not +promise to be an easy one. + +"I wish I could do without him," thought the treacherous little +scoundrel as he left his own property and struck across the waste ground +beyond the park wall. "But I can't, dash it all, since he's the only +person who saw the crime actually committed. 'Course he'll get jailed as +an accessory-after-the-fact: but when he comes out I'll give him a +thousand or so if the old woman parts. At all events, I'll see what +Silver is prepared to do, and then I'll call on old Cockleshell and make +things right with her. Hang it," Freddy had a qualmish feeling. "The +exposure won't be pleasant for me over that unlucky letter, but if I can +snaffle a million, it's worth it. Curse the honor of the family, I've +got to look after myself somehow. Ho! ho!" he chuckled as he remembered +his cousin. "What a sell for Noel when he finds that I've taken the wind +out of his sails. Serve him jolly well right." + +In this way Garvington kept up his spirits during the walk, and felt +entirely cheerful and virtuous by the time he reached the cottage. In +the thin, cold moonlight, the wintry wood looked spectral and wan. The +sight of the frowning monoliths, the gaunt, frozen trees and the +snow-powdered earth, made the luxurious little man shiver. Also the +anticipated conversation rather daunted him, although he decided that +after all Silver was but a feeble creature who could be easily managed. +What Freddy forgot was that he lacked pluck himself, and that Silver, +driven into a corner, might fight with the courage of despair. The sight +of the secretary's deadly white and terrified face as he opened the door +sufficient to peer out showed that he was at bay. + +"If you come in I'll shoot," he quavered, brokenly. "I'll--I'll brain +you with the poker. I'll throw hot water on you, and--and scratch out +your--your--" + +"Come, come," said Garvington, boldly. "It's only me--a friend!" + +Silver recognized the voice and the dumpy figure of his visitor. At once +he dragged him into the passage and barred the door quickly, breathing +hard meanwhile. "I don't mind you," he giggled, hysterically. "You're in +the same boat with me, my lord. But I fancied when you knocked that the +police--the police"--his voice died weakly in his throat: he cast a wild +glance around and touched his neck uneasily as though he already felt +the hangman's rope encircling it. + +Garvington did not approve of this grim pantomime, and swore. "I'm quite +alone, damn you," he said roughly. "It's all right, so far!" He sat down +and loosened his overcoat, for the place was like a Turkish bath for +heat. "I want a drink. You've been priming yourself, I see," and he +pointed to a decanter of port wine and a bottle of brandy which were on +the table along with a tray of glasses. "Silly ass you are to mix." + +"I'm--I'm--keeping up my--my spirits," giggled Silver, wholly unnerved, +and pouring out the brandy with a shaking hand. "There you are, my lord. +There's water, but no soda." + +"Keeping up your spirits by pouring spirits down," said Garvington, +venturing on a weak joke. "You're in a state of siege, too." + +Silver certainly was. He had bolted the shutters, and had piled +furniture against the two windows of the room. On the table beside the +decanter and bottles of brandy, lay a poker, a heavy club which Lambert +had brought from Africa, and had left behind when he gave up the +cottage, a revolver loaded in all six chambers, and a large bread knife. +Apparently the man was in a dangerous state of despair and was ready to +give the officers of the law a hostile welcome when they came to arrest +him. He touched the various weapons feverishly. + +"I'll give them beans," he said, looking fearfully from right to left. +"Every door is locked; every window is bolted. I've heaped up chairs and +sofas and tables and chests of drawers, and wardrobes and mattresses +against every opening to keep the devils out. And the lamps--look at the +lamps. Ugh!" he shuddered. "I can't bear to be in the dark." + +"Plenty of light," observed Garvington, and spoke truly, for there must +have been at least six lamps in the room--two on the table, two on the +mantel-piece, and a couple on the sideboard. And amidst his primitive +defences sat Silver quailing and quivering at every sound, occasionally +pouring brandy down his throat to keep up his courage. + +The white looks of the man, the disorder of the room, the glare of the +many lights, and the real danger of the situation, communicated their +thrill to Garvington. He shivered and looked into shadowy corners, as +Silver did; then strove to reassure both himself and his companion. +"Don't worry so," he said, sipping his brandy to keep him up to concert +pitch, "I've got an idea which will be good for both of us." + +"What is it?" questioned the secretary cautiously. He naturally did not +trust the man who had betrayed him. + +"Do you know who has inherited Pine's money?" + +"No. The person named in the sealed envelope?" + +"Exactly, and the person is Mother Cockleshell." + +Silver was so amazed that he forgot his fright. "What? Is Gentilla +Stanley related to Pine?" + +"She's his grandmother, it seems. One of my servants was at the camp +to-day and found the gypsies greatly excited over the old cat's +windfall." + +"Whew!" Silver whistled and drew a deep breath. "If I'd known that, I'd +have got round the old woman. But it's too late now since all the fat is +on the fire. Mr. Lambert knows too much, and you have confessed what +should have been kept quiet." + +"I had to save my own skin," said Garvington sullenly. "After all, I had +nothing to do with the murder. I never guessed that you were so mixed up +in it until Lambert brought that bullet to fit the revolver I lent you." + +"And which I gave to Miss Greeby," snapped Silver tartly. "She is the +criminal, not me. What a wax she will be in when she learns the truth. +I expect your cousin will have her arrested." + +"I don't think so. He has some silly idea in his head about the honor of +our name, and won't press matters unless he is forced to." + +"Who can force him?" asked Silver, looking more at ease, since he saw a +gleam of hope. + +"Chaldea! She's death on making trouble." + +"Can't we silence her? Remember you swing on my hook." + +"No, I don't," contradicted Garvington sharply. "I can't be arrested." + +"For forging that letter you can!" + +"Not at all. I did not write it to lure Pine to his death, but only +wished to maim him." + +"That will get you into trouble," insisted Silver, anxious to have a +companion in misery. + +"It won't, I tell you. There's no one to prosecute. You are the person +who is in danger, as you knew Miss Greeby to be guilty, and are +therefore an accessory after the fact." + +"If Mr. Lambert has the honor of your family at heart he will do +nothing," said the secretary hopefully; "for if Miss Greeby is arrested +along with me the writing of that letter is bound to come out." + +"I don't care. It's worth a million." + +"What is worth a million?" + +"The exposure. See here, Silver, I hear that Mother Cockleshell is +willing to hand over that sum to the person who finds the murderer of +her grandson. We know that Miss Greeby is guilty, so why not give her +up and earn the money?" + +The secretary rose in quivering alarm. "But I'd be arrested also. You +said so; you know you said so." + +"And I say so again," remarked Garvington, leaning back coolly. "You'd +not be hanged, you know, although she would. A few years in prison +would be your little lot and when you came out I could give you +say--er--er--ten thousand pounds. There! That's a splendid offer." + +"Where would you get the ten thousand? Tell me!" asked Silver with a +curious look. + +"From the million Mother Cockleshell would hand over to me." + +"For denouncing me?" + +"For denouncing Miss Greeby." + +"You beast!" shrieked Silver hysterically. "You know quite well that if +she is taken by the police I have no chance of escaping. I'd run away +now if I had the cash. But I haven't. I count on your cousin keeping +quiet because of your family name, and you shan't give the show away." + +"But think," said Garvington, persuasively, "a whole million." + +"For you, and only ten thousand for me. Oh, I like that." + +"Well, I'll make it twenty thousand." + +"No! no." + +"Thirty thousand." + +"No! no! no!" + +"Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy--oh, hang it, you greedy beast! I'll give +you one hundred thousand. You'd be rich for life then." + +"Would I, curse you!" Silver clenched his fists and backed against the +wall looking decidedly dangerous. "And risk a life-long sentence to get +the money while you take the lion's share." + +"You'd only get ten years at most," argued the visitor, annoyed by what +he considered to be silly objections. + +"Ten years are ten centuries at my time of life. You shan't denounce +me." + +Garvington rose. "Yes, I shall," he declared, rendered desperate by the +dread lest he should lose the million. "I'm going to Wanbury to-night to +tell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest along +with yours as her accomplice." + +Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "You +daren't!" + +"Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not going +to lose a pile of money for your silly scruples." + +"Oh, my lord, consider." Silver in a panic dropped on his knees. "I +shall be shut up for years; it will kill me; it will kill me! And you +don't know what a terrible and clever woman Miss Greeby is. She may deny +that I gave her the revolver and I can't prove that I did. Then I might +be accused of the crime and hanged. Hanged!" cried the poor wretch +miserably. "Oh, you'll never give me away, my lord, will you." + +"Confound you, don't I risk my reputation to get the money," raged +Garvington, shaking off the trembling arms which were round his knees. +"The truth of the letter will have to come out, and then I'm dished so +far as society is concerned. I wouldn't do it--tell that is--but that +the stakes are so large. One million is waiting to be picked up and I'm +going to pick it up." + +"No! no! no! no!" Silver grovelled on the floor and embraced +Garvington's feet. But the more he wailed the more insulting and +determined did the visitor become. Like all tyrants and bullies +Garvington gained strength and courage from the increased feebleness +of his victim. "Don't give me up," wept the secretary, nearly beside +himself with terror; "don't give me up." + +"Oh, damn you, get out of the way!" said Garvington, and made for the +door. "I go straight to Wanbury," which statement was a lie, as he first +intended to see Mother Cockleshell at the camp and make certain that the +reward was safe. But Silver believed him and was goaded to frenzy. + +"You shan't go!" he screamed, leaping to his feet, and before Garvington +knew where he was the secretary had the heavy poker in his grasp. The +little fat lord gave a cry of terror and dodged the first blow which +merely fell on his shoulder. But the second alighted on his head and +with a moan he dropped to the ground. Silver flung away the poker. + +"Are you dead? are you dead?" he gasped, kneeling beside Garvington, and +placed his hand on the senseless man's heart. It still beat feebly, so +he arose with a sigh of relief. "He's only stunned," panted Silver, and +staggered unsteadily to the table to seize a glass of brandy. "I'll, +ah--ah--ah!" he shrieked and dropped the tumbler as a loud and +continuous knocking came to the front door. + +Naturally in his state of panic he believed that the police had actually +arrived, and here he had struck down Lord Garvington. Even though the +little man was not dead, Silver knew that the assault would add to his +punishment, although he might have concluded that the lesser crime was +swallowed up in the greater. But he was too terrified to think of doing +anything save hiding the stunned man, and with a gigantic effort he +managed to fling the body behind the sofa. Then he piled up rugs and +cushions between the wall and the back of the sofa until Garvington was +quite hidden and ran a considerable risk of being suffocated. All the +time the ominous knocking continued, as though the gallows was being +constructed. At least it seemed so to Silver's disturbed fancy, and he +crept along to the door holding the revolver in an unsteady grip. + +"Who--who--is--" + +"Let me in; let me in," said a loud, hard voice. "I'm Miss Greeby. I +have come to save you. Let me in." + +Silver had no hesitation in obeying, since she was in as much danger as +he was and could not hurt him without hurting herself. With trembling +fingers he unbolted the door and opened it, to find her tall and stately +and tremendously impatient on the threshold. She stepped in and banged +the door to without locking it. Silver's teeth chattered so much and his +limbs trembled so greatly that he could scarcely move or speak. On +seeing this--for there was a lamp in the passage--Miss Greeby picked him +up in her big arms like a baby and made for the sitting-room. When, +within she pitched Silver on to the sofa behind which Garvington lay +senseless, and placing her arms akimbo surveyed him viciously. + +"You infernal worm!" said Miss Greeby, grim and savage in her looks, +"you have split on me, have you?" + +"How--how--how do you know?" quavered Silver mechanically, noting that +in her long driving coat with a man's cap she looked more masculine than +ever. + +"How do I know? Because Chaldea was hiding under the studio window this +afternoon and overheard all that passed between you and Garvington and +that meddlesome Lambert. She knew that I was in danger and came at once +to London to tell me since I had given her my address. I lost no time, +but motored down here and dropped her at the camp. Now I've come to get +you out of the country." + +"Me out of the country?" stammered the secretary. + +"Yes, you cowardly swine, although I'd rather choke the life out of you +if it could be done with safety. You denounced me, you beast." + +"I had to; my own neck was in danger." + +"It's in danger now. I'd strangle you for two pins. But I intend to send +you abroad since your evidence is dangerous to me. If you are out of the +way there's no one else can state that I shot Pine. Here's twenty pounds +in gold;" she thrust a canvas bag into the man's shaking hands; "get on +your coat and cap and I'll take you to the nearest seaport wherever that +is. My motor is on the verge of the wood. You must get on board some +ship and sail for the world's end. I'll send you more money when you +write. Come, come," she stamped, "sharp's the word." + +"But--but--but--" + +Miss Greeby lifted him off the sofa by the scruff of the neck. "Do you +want to be killed?" she said between her teeth, "there's no time to be +lost. Chaldea tells me that Lambert threatens to have me arrested." + +The prospect of safety and prosperity in a distant land so appealed to +Silver that he regained his courage in a wonderfully short space of +time. Rising to his feet he hastily drained another glass of brandy and +the color came back to his wan cheeks. But for all the quantity he had +drank that same evening he was not in the least intoxicated. He was +about to rush out of the room to get his coat and cap when Miss Greeby +laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"Is there any one else in the house?" she asked suspiciously. + +Silver cast a glance towards the sofa. "There's no servant," he said in +a stronger voice. "I have been cooking and looking after myself since I +came here. But--but--but--" + +"But what, you hound?" she shook him fiercely. + +"Garvington's behind the sofa." + +"Garvington!" Miss Greeby was on the spot in a moment pulling away the +concealing rugs and cushions. "Have you murdered him?" she demanded, +drawing a deep breath and looking at the senseless man. + +"No, he's only stunned. I struck him with the poker because he wanted to +denounce me." + +"Quite right." Miss Greeby patted the head of her accomplice as if he +were a child, "You're bolder than I thought. Go on; hurry up! Before +Garvington recovers his senses we'll be far enough away. Denounce me; +denounce him, will you?" she said, looking at Garvington while the +secretary slipped out of the room; "you do so at your own cost, my lord. +That forged letter won't tell in your favor. Ha!" she started to her +feet. "What's that! Who's here?" + +She might well ask. There was a struggle going on in the passage, and +she heard cries for help. Miss Greeby flung open the sitting-room door, +and Silver, embracing Mother Cockleshell, tumbled at her feet. "She got +in by the door you left open," cried Silver breathlessly, "hold her or +we are lost; we'll never get away." + +"No, you won't!" shouted the dishevelled old woman, producing a knife to +keep Miss Greeby at bay. "Chaldea came to the camp and I learned through +Kara how she'd brought you down, my Gentile lady. I went to tell the +golden rye, and he's on the way here with the village policeman. You're +done for." + +"Not yet." Miss Greeby darted under the uplifted knife and caught +Gentilla round the waist. The next moment the old woman was flung +against the wall, breathless and broken up. But she still contrived to +hurl curses at the murderess of her grandson. + +"I saw you shoot him; I saw you shoot him," screamed Mother Cockleshell, +trying to rise. + +"Silver, make for the motor; it's near the camp; follow the path," +ordered Miss Greeby breathlessly; "there's no time to be lost. As to +this old devil--" she snatched up a lamp as the secretary dashed out of +the house, and flung it fairly at Gentilla Stanley. In a moment the old +woman was yelling with agony, and scrambled to her feet a pillar of +fire. Miss Greeby laughed in a taunting manner and hurled another lamp +behind the sofa. "You'd have given me up also, would you, Garvington?" +she cried in her deep tone; "take that, and that, and that." + +Lamp after lamp was smashed and burst into flames, until only one was +left. Then Miss Greeby, seeing with satisfaction that the entire room +was on fire and hearing the sound of hasty footsteps and the echoing of +distant voices, rushed in her turn from the cottage. As she bolted the +voice of Garvington screaming with pain and dread was heard as he came +to his senses to find himself encircled by fire. And Mother Cockleshell +also shrieked, not so much because of her agony as to stop Miss Greeby +from escaping. + +"Rye! Rye! she's running; catch her; catch her. Aha--aha--aha!" and she +sank into the now blazing furnace of the room. + +The walls of the cottage were of mud, the partitions and roof of wood +and thatch, so the whole place soon burned like a bonfire. Miss Greeby +shot out of the door and strode at a quick pace across the glade. But as +she passed beyond the monoliths, Lambert, in company with a policeman, +made a sudden appearance and blocked her way of escape. With a grim +determination to thwart him she kilted up her skirts and leaped like a +kangaroo towards the undergrowth beneath the leafless trees. By this +time the flames were shooting through the thatched roof in long scarlet +streamers and illuminated the spectral wood with awful light. + +"Stop! stop!" cried Lambert, racing to cut off the woman's retreat, +closely followed by the constable. + +Miss Greeby laughed scornfully, and instead of avoiding them as they +crossed her path, she darted straight towards the pair. In a moment, by +a dexterous touch of her shoulders right and left, she knocked them over +by taking them unawares, and then sprang down the path which curved +towards the gypsies' encampment. At its end the motor was waiting, and +so vivid was the light that she saw Silver's black figure bending down +as he frantically strove to start the machine. She travelled at top +speed, fearful lest the man should escape without her. + +Then came an onrush of Romany, attracted to the glade by the fire. They +guessed from Miss Greeby's haste that something was seriously wrong and +tried to stop her. But, delivering blows straight from the shoulder, +here, there, and everywhere, the woman managed to break through, and +finally reached the end of the pathway. Here was the motor and safety, +since she hoped to make a dash for the nearest seaport and get out of +the kingdom before the police authorities could act. + +But the stars in their course fought against her. Silver, having started +the machinery, was already handling the steering gear, and bent only +upon saving his own miserable self, had put the car in motion. He could +only drive in a slip-slop amateur way and aimlessly zigzagged down the +sloping bank which fell away to the high road. As the motor began to +gather speed Miss Greeby ran for her life and liberty, ranging at length +breathlessly alongside. The gypsies tailed behind, shouting. + +"Stop, you beast!" screamed Miss Greeby, feeling fear for the first +time, and she tried to grab the car for the purpose of swinging herself +on board. + +But Silver urged it to greater speed. "I save myself; myself," he +shrieked shrilly and unhinged by deadly terror, "get away; get away." + +In his panic he twisted the wheel in the wrong direction, and the big +machine swerved obediently. The next moment Miss Greeby was knocked +down and writhed under the wheels. She uttered a tragic cry, but little +Silver cared for that. Rendered merciless with fear he sent the car +right over her body, and then drove desperately down the hill to gain +the hard road. Miss Greeby, with a broken back, lay on the ground and +saw as in a ghastly dream her machine flash roaring along the highway +driven by a man who could not manage it. Even in her pain a smile crept +over her pale face. + +"He's done for, the little beast," she muttered, "he'll smash. Lambert! +Lambert!" The man whose name she breathed had arrived as she spoke; and +knelt breathlessly beside her to raise her head. "You--you--oh, poor +creature!" he gasped. + +"I'm done for, Lambert," she panted in deadly pain, "back broken. I +sinned for you, but--but you can't hang me. Look--look after +Garvington--Cockleshell too--look--look--Augh!" and she moaned. + +"Where are they?" + +"In--in--the--cottage," murmured the woman, and fell back in a fainting +condition with a would-be sneering laugh. + +Lambert started to his feet with an oath, and leaving the wretched woman +to the care of some gypsies, ran back to the glade. The cottage was a +mass of streaming, crackling flames, and there was no water to +extinguish these, as he realized with sudden fear. It was terrible to +think that the old woman and Garvington were burning in that furnace, +and desperately anxious to save at least one of the two, Lambert tried +to enter the door. But the heat of the fire drove him back, and the +flames seemed to roar at his discomfiture. He could do nothing but stand +helplessly and gaze upon what was plainly Garvington's funeral pyre. + +By this time the villagers were making for the wood, and the whole place +rang with cries of excitement and dismay. The wintry scene was revealed +only too clearly by the ruddy glare and by the same sinister light. +Lambert suddenly beheld Chaldea at his elbow. Gripping his arm, she +spoke hoarsely, "The tiny rye is dead. He drove the engine over a bank +and it smashed him to a pulp." + +"Oh! ah! And--and Miss Greeby?" + +"She is dying." + +Lambert clenched his hands and groaned, "Garvington and Mother +Cockleshell?" + +"She is dead and he is dead by now," said Chaldea, looking with a +callous smile at the burning cottage, "both are dead--Lord Garvington." + +"Lord Garvington?" Lambert groaned again. He had forgotten that he now +possessed the title and what remained of the family estates. + +"Avali!" cried Chaldea, clapping her hands and nodding toward the +cottage with a meaning smile, "there's the bonfire to celebrate the +luck." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +A FINAL SURPRISE. + + +A week later and Lambert was seated in the library of The Manor, looking +worn and anxious. His wan appearance was not due so much to what he had +passed through, trying as late events had been, as to his dread of what +Inspector Darby was about to say. That officer was beside him, getting +ready for an immediate conversation by turning over various papers which +he produced from a large and well-filled pocket-book. Darby looked +complacent and important, as an examination into the late tragedy had +added greatly to his reputation as a zealous officer. Things were now +more ship-shape, as Miss Greeby had died after making confession of her +crime and had been duly buried by her shocked relatives. The ashes of +Lord Garvington and Mother Cockleshell, recovered from the debris of +the cottage, had also been disposed of with religious ceremonies, and +Silver's broken body had been placed in an unwept grave. The frightful +catastrophe which had resulted in the death of four people had been the +talk of the United Kingdom for the entire seven days. + +What Lambert was dreading to hear was the report of Miss Greeby's +confession, which Inspector Darby had come to talk about. He had tried +to see her himself at the village inn, whither she had been transferred +to die, but she had refused to let him come to her dying bed, and +therefore he did not know in what state of mind she had passed away. +Judging from the vindictive spirit which she had displayed, Lambert +fancied that she had told Darby the whole wretched story of the forged +letter and the murder. The last was bound to be confessed, but the young +man had hoped against hope that Miss Greeby would be silent regarding +Garvington's share in the shameful plot. Wickedly as his cousin had +behaved, Lambert did not wish his memory to be smirched and the family +honor to be tarnished by a revelation of the little man's true +character. He heartily wished that the evil Garvington had done might +be buried with him, and the whole sordid affair forgotten. + +"First, my lord," said Darby leisurely, when his papers were in order, +"I have to congratulate your lordship on your accession to the title. +Hitherto so busy have I been that there has been no time to do this." + +"Thank you, Mr. Inspector, but I regret that I should have succeeded +through so tragic a death." + +"Yes, yes, my lord! the feeling does you honor," Darby nodded +sympathetically; "but it must be some comfort for you to know that your +poor cousin perished when on an errand of mercy, although his aim was +not perhaps quite in accordance with strict justice." + +Lambert stared. "I don't know what you mean," he remarked, being puzzled +by this coupling of Garvington's name with any good deed. + +"Of course you don't, my lord. But for you to understand I had better +begin with Miss Greeby's confession. I must touch on some rather +intimate things, however," said the inspector rather shyly. + +"Meaning that Miss Greeby was in love with me." + +"Exactly, my lord. Her love for you--if you will excuse my mentioning so +private a subject--caused the whole catastrophe." + +"Indeed," the young man felt a sense of relief, as if Darby put the +matter in this way the truth about the forged letter could scarcely have +come to light, "will you explain?" + +"Certainly, my lord. Miss Greeby always wished to marry your lordship, +but she knew that you loved your wife, the present Lady Garvington, who +was then Lady Agnes Pine. She believed that you and Lady Agnes would +sooner or later run away together." + +"There was no reason she should think so," said Noel, becoming scarlet. + +"Of course not, my lord. Pardon me again for speaking of such very +private matters. But I can scarcely make your lordship understand how +the late Sir Hubert Pine came by his death unless I am painfully frank." + +"Go on, Mr. Inspector," Noel leaned back and folded his arms. "Be frank +to the verge of rudeness, if you like." + +"Oh, no, no, my lord; certainly not," Darby said in a shocked manner. +"I will be as delicate as I possibly can. Well, then, my lord, Miss +Greeby, thinking that you might elope with the then Lady Agnes Pine, +resolved to place an even greater barrier between you than the +marriage." + +"What could be a possibly greater barrier?" + +"Your honor, my lord, your strict sense of honor. Miss Greeby thought +that if she got rid of Sir Hubert, and Lady Agnes was in possession of +the millions, that you would never risk her losing the same for your +sake." + +"She was right in supposing that, Mr. Inspector, but how did Miss Greeby +know that Lady Agnes would lose the money if she married me?" + +"Sir Hubert told her so himself, my lord, when she discovered that he +was at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael Hearne." + +"His real name." + +"Of course, my lord; of course. And having made this discovery and +knowing how jealous Sir Hubert was of his wife--if you will pardon my +mentioning the fact--Miss Greeby laid a trap to lure him to The Manor +that he might be shot." + +The listener moved uneasily, and he now quite expected to hear the +revelation of Garvington's forgery. "Go on, Mr. Inspector." + +"Miss Greeby," pursued the officer, glancing at his notes, "knew that +the late Mark Silver, who was Sir Hubert's secretary, was not well +disposed toward his employer, as he fancied that he had been cheated out +of the proceeds of certain inventions. Miss Greeby worked on this point +and induced Silver to forge a letter purporting to come from Lady Agnes +to you saying that an elopement had been arranged." + +"Oh," Lambert drew a breath of relief, "so Silver laid a trap, did he?" + +"Yes, my lord, and a very clever one. The letter was arranged by Silver +to fall into Sir Hubert's hands. That unfortunate gentleman came to the +blue door at the appointed time, then Miss Greeby, who had climbed out +of the window of her bedroom to hide in the shrubbery, shot the +unsuspecting man. She then got back into her room--and a very clever +climber she must have been, my lord--and afterward mingled with the +guests." + +"But why did she think of luring Sir Hubert to be shot?" asked Noel with +feigned ignorance, "when she ran such a risk of being discovered?" + +"Ah, my lord, therein lies the cleverness of the idea. Poor Lord +Garvington had threatened to shoot any burglar, and that gave Miss +Greeby the idea. It was her hope that your late cousin might kill Sir +Hubert by mistaking him for a robber, and she only posted herself in the +shrubbery to shoot if Sir Hubert was not killed. He was not, as we know +that the shot fired by Lord Garvington only broke his arm. Miss Greeby +made sure by killing him herself, and very cleverly she did so." + +"And what about my late cousin's philanthropic visit to Silver?" + +"Ah, my lord, that was a mistake. His lordship was informed of the +forged letter by Chaldea the gypsy girl, who found it in Sir Hubert's +tent, and for the sake of your family wished to get Silver out of the +country. It would have been dreadful--as Lord Garvington rightly +considered--that the name of his sister and your name should be +mentioned in connection with an elopement even though it was untrue. He +therefore went to induce Silver to leave the country, but the man, +instead of being grateful, stunned his lordship with a blow from a poker +which he had picked up." + +"How was that known, Mr. Inspector?" + +"Miss Greeby had the truth from his own lips. Silver threatened to +denounce her, and knowing this Chaldea went to London to warn her." + +"Oh," muttered Lambert, thinking of what Gentilla Stanley had said, "how +did she find out?" + +"She overheard a conversation between Silver and Lord Garvington in the +cottage." + +Lambert was relieved again, since Miss Greeby had not evidently +mentioned him as being mixed up with the matter. "Yes, Mr. Inspector, I +can guess the rest. This unfortunate woman came down to get Silver, who +could have hanged her, out of the country, and he set fire to the +cottage." + +"She set fire to it," corrected Darby quickly, "by chance, as she told +me, she overturned a lamp. Of course, Lord Garvington, being senseless, +was burned to death. Gentilla Stanley was also burned." + +"How did she come to be there?" + +"Oh, it seems that Gentilla followed Hearne--he was her grandson I hear +from the gypsies--to The Manor on that night and saw the shooting. But +she said nothing, not feeling sure if her unsupported testimony would be +sufficient to convict Miss Greeby. However, she watched that lady and +followed her to the cottage to denounce her and prevent the escape of +Silver--who knew the truth also, as she ascertained. Silver knocked the +old woman down and stunned her, so she also was burned to death. Then +Silver ran for the motor car and crushed Miss Greeby--since he could not +manage the machine." + +"Did he crush her on purpose, do you think?" + +"No," said Darby after a pause, "I don't think so. Miss Greeby was rich, +and if the pair of them had escaped Silver would have been able to +extort money. He no more killed her than he killed himself by dashing +into that chalk pit near the road. It was mismanagement of the motor in +both cases." + +Lambert was quiet for a time. "Is that all?" he asked, looking up. + +"All, my lord," answered the inspector, gathering his papers together. + +"Is anything else likely to appear in the papers?" + +"No, my lord." + +"I noted," said Lambert slowly, "that there was no mention of the forged +letter made at the inquest." + +Darby nodded. "I arranged that, my lord, since the forged letter made so +free with your lordship's name and that of the present Lady Garvington. +As you probably saw, it was only stated that the late Sir Hubert had +gone to meet his secretary at The Manor and that Miss Greeby, knowing of +his coming, had shot him. The motive was ascribed as anger at the late +Sir Hubert for having lost a great sum of money which Miss Greeby +entrusted to him for the purpose of speculation." + +"And is it true that such money was entrusted and lost?" + +"Perfectly true, my lord. I saw in that fact a chance of hiding the real +truth. It would do no good to make the forged letter public and would +cast discredit both on the dead and the living. Therefore all that has +been said does not even hint at the trap laid by Silver. Now that all +parties concerned are dead and buried, no more will be heard of the +matter, and your lordship can sleep in peace." + +The young man walked up and down the room for a few minutes while the +inspector made ready to depart. Noel was deeply touched by the man's +consideration and made up his mind that he should not lose by the +delicacy he had shown in preserving his name and that of Agnes from +the tongue of gossips. He saw plainly that Darby was a man he could +thoroughly trust and forthwith did so. + +"Mr. Inspector," he said, coming forward to shake hands, "you have acted +in a most kind and generous manner and I cannot show my appreciation of +your behavior more than by telling you the exact truth of this sad +affair." + +"I know the truth," said Darby staring. + +"Not the exact truth, which closely concerns the honor of my family. But +as you have saved that by suppressing certain evidence it is only right +that you should know more than you do know." + +"I shall keep quiet anything that you tell me, my lord," said Darby +greatly pleased; "that is, anything that is consistent with my official +duty." + +"Of course. Also I wish you to know exactly how matters stand, since +there may be trouble with Chaldea." + +"Oh, I don't think so, my lord. Chaldea has married that dwarf." + +"Kara, the Servian gypsy?" + +"Yes. She's given him a bad time, and he put up with it because he had +no authority over her; but now that she's his romi--as these people call +a wife--he'll make her dance to his playing. They left England yesterday +for foreign parts--Hungary, I fancy, my lord. The girl won't come back +in a hurry, for Kara will keep an eye on her." + +Lambert drew a long breath of relief. "I am glad," he said simply, "as +I never should have felt safe while she remained in England." + +"Felt safe?" echoed the officer suspiciously. + +His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again. Then, without +wasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter. +Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly over +the delinquency of the late Lord Garvington. + +"Well! Well!" said the inspector staring, "to think as a nobleman born +and bred should act in this way." + +"Why shouldn't a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?" said Lambert +impatiently, "and according to the socialistic press all the evil of +humanity is to be found in aristocratic circles. However, you know the +exact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret which +concerns the honor of my family. You won't abuse my confidence." + +Darby rose and extended his hand. "You may be sure of that, my lord. +What you have told me will never be repeated. Everything in connection +with this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it." + +"I'm glad and thankful," said the other, again drawing a breath of +relief, "and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shall +send you a substantial check." + +"Oh, my lord, I couldn't take it. I only did my duty." + +"I think you did a great deal more than that," answered the new Lord +Garvington dryly, "and had you acted entirely on the evidence you +gathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserable +woman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keep +private. Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteem +for a man." + +"Thank you, my lord," replied the inspector straightly, "I don't deny +but what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me to +take it since you put it in that way. And as I am not a rich man the +money will be welcome. Thank you!" + +With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offered +up a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out so +admirably. His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer any +danger that the honor of the family, for which so much had been +sacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched. The young man +regretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposed +toward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had left +England under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth--if he knew +anything of the dwarf's jealous disposition--the girl would trouble him +no more. And Silver was dead and buried, which did away with any +possible trouble coming from that quarter. Finally, poor Miss Greeby, +who had sinned for love, was out of the way and there was no need to be +anxious on her account. Fate had made a clean sweep of all the actors in +the tragedy, and Lambert hoped that this particular play was ended. + +When the inspector went away, Lord Garvington sought out his wife and +his late cousin's widow. To them he reported all that had passed and +gave them the joyful assurance that nothing more would be heard in +connection with the late tragic events. Both ladies were delighted. + +"Poor Freddy," sighed Agnes, who had quite forgiven her brother now that +he had paid for his sins, "he behaved very badly; all the same he had +his good points, Noel." + +"Ah, he had, he had," said Lady Garvington, the widow, shaking her +untidy head, "he was selfish and greedy, and perhaps not so thoughtful +as he might have been, but there are worse people than poor Freddy." + +Noel could not help smiling at this somewhat guarded eulogy of the dead, +but did not pursue the subject. "Well, Jane, you must not grieve too +much." + +"No, I shall not," she admitted bluntly, "I am going to be quiet for a +few months and then perhaps I may marry again. But I shall marry a man +who lives on nuts and roots, my dear Noel. Never again," she shuddered, +"shall I bother about the kitchen. I shall burn Freddy's recipes and +cookery books." + +Lady Garvington evidently really felt relieved by the death of her +greedy little husband, although she tried her best to appear sorry. But +the twinkle of relief in her eyes betrayed her, and neither Noel nor +Agnes could blame her. She had enough to live on--since the new lord had +arranged this in a most generous manner--and she was free from the cares +of the kitchen. + +"So I'll go to London in a few days when I've packed up," said the widow +nodding, "you two dears can stay here for your second honeymoon." + +"It will be concerned with pounds, shillings, and pence, then," said +Agnes with a smile, "for Noel has to get the estate put in order. +Things are very bad just now, as I know for certain. But we must try to +save The Manor from going out of the family." + +It was at this moment, and while the trio wondered how the financial +condition of the Lamberts was to be improved, that a message came saying +that Mr. Jarwin wished to see Lord and Lady Garvington in the library. +Wondering what the lawyer had come about, and dreading further bad news, +the young couple descended, leaving the widow to her packing up. They +found the lean, dry solicitor waiting for them with a smiling face. + +"Oh!" said Agnes as she greeted him, "then it's not bad news?" + +"On the contrary," said Jarwin, with his cough, "it is the best of +news." + +Noel looked at him hard. "The best of news to me at the present moment +would be information about money," he said slowly. "I have a title, it +is true, but the estate is much encumbered." + +"You need not trouble about that, Lord Garvington; Mrs. Stanley has put +all that right." + +"What?" asked Agnes greatly agitated. "Has she made over the mortgages +to Noel? Oh, if she only has." + +"She has done better than that," remarked Jarwin, producing a paper of +no great size, "this is her will. She wanted to make a deed of gift, and +probably would have done so had she lived. But luckily she made the +will--and a hard-and-fast one it is--for I drew it up myself," said Mr. +Jarwin complacently. + +"How does the will concern us?" asked Agnes, catching Noel's hand with a +tremor, for she could scarcely grasp the hints of the lawyer. + +"Mrs. Stanley, my dear lady, had a great regard for you since you nursed +her through a dangerous illness. Also you were, as she put it, a good +and true wife to her grandson. Therefore, as she approved of you and of +your second marriage, she has left the entire fortune of your late +husband to you and to Lord Garvington here." + +"Never!" cried Lambert growing pale, while his wife gasped with +astonishment. + +"It is true, and here is the proof," Jarwin shook the parchment, "one +million to you, Lord Garvington, and one million to your wife. Listen, +if you please," and the solicitor read the document in a formal manner +which left no doubt as to the truth of his amazing news. When he +finished the lucky couple looked at one another scarcely able to speak. +It was Agnes who recovered her voice first. + +"Oh, it can't be true--it can't be true," she cried. "Noel, pinch me, +for I must be dreaming." + +"It is true, as the will gives you to understand," said the lawyer, +smiling in his dry way, "and if I may be permitted to say so, Lady +Garvington, never was money more rightfully inherited. You surrendered +everything for the sake of true love, and it is only just that you +should be rewarded. If Mrs. Stanley had lived she intended to keep five +or six thousand for herself so that she could transport certain gypsies +to America, but she would undoubtedly have made a deed of gift of the +rest of the property. Oh, what a very fortunate thing it was that she +made this will," cried Jarwin, genuinely moved at the thought of the +possible loss of the millions, "for her unforeseen death would have +spoiled everything if I had not the forethought to suggest the +testament." + +"It is to you we owe our good fortune." + +"To Mrs. Gentilla Stanley--and to me partially. I only ask for my reward +that you will continue to allow me to see after the property. The fees," +added Jarwin with his dry cough, "will be considerable." + +"You can rob us if you like," said Noel, slapping him on the back. +"Well, to say that I am glad is to speak weakly. I am overjoyed. With +this money we can restore the fortunes of the family again." + +"They will be placed higher than they have ever been before," cried +Agnes with a shining face. "Two millions. Oh, what a lot of good we can +do." + +"To yourselves?" inquired Jarwin dryly. + +"And to others also," said Lambert gravely. "God has been so good to us +that we must be good to others." + +"Then be good to me, Lord Garvington," said the solicitor, putting away +the will in his bag, "for I am dying of hunger. A little luncheon--" + +"A very big one." + +"I am no great eater," said Jarwin, and walked toward the door, "a wash +and brush-up and a plate of soup will satisfy me. And I will say again +what I said before to both of you, that you thoroughly deserve your good +fortune. Lord Garvington, you are the luckier of the two, as you have a +wife who is far above rubies, and--and--dear me, I am talking romance. +So foolish at my age. To think--well--well, I am extremely hungry, so +don't let luncheon be long before it appears," and with a croaking laugh +at his jokes the lawyer disappeared. + +Left alone the fortunate couple fell into one another's arms. It seemed +incredible that the past storm should have been succeeded by so +wonderful a calm. They had been tested by adversity, and they had proved +themselves to be of sterling metal. Before them the future stretched in +a long, smooth road under sunny blue skies, and behind them the black +clouds, out of which they had emerged, were dispersing into thin air. +Evil passes, good endures. + +"Two millions!" sighed Agnes joyfully. + +"Of red money," remarked her husband. + +"Why do you call it that?" + +"Mother Cockleshell--bless her!--called it so because it was tainted +with blood. But we must cleanse the stains, Agnes, by using much of it +to help all that are in trouble. God has been good in settling our +affairs in this way, but He has given me a better gift than the money." + +"What is that?" asked Lady Garvington softly. + +"The love of my dear wife," said the happiest of men to the happiest of +women. + + +THE END. + + + + +Popular Detective Stories by Fergus Hume + +Claude Duval of '95 +A Coin of Edward VII +The Disappearing Eye +The Green Mummy +Lady Jim of Curzon Street +The Mandarin's Fan +The Mystery of a Hansom Cab +The Mystery Queen +The Opal Serpent +The Pagan's Cup +The Rainbow Feather +Red Money +The Red Window +The Sacred Herb +The Sealed Message +The Secret Passage +The Solitary Farm +The Steel Crown +The Yellow Holly +The Peacock of Jewels + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Money, by Fergus Hume + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 15356.txt or 15356.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/3/5/15356/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/15356.zip b/15356.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..007b331 --- /dev/null +++ b/15356.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6490e05 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #15356 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15356) |